


Acknowledged Bastards

by a_t_rain



Category: Vorkosigan Saga - Lois McMaster Bujold
Genre: Cats, Gen, Vorrutyer family values, space mafia family values
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-14
Updated: 2017-04-30
Packaged: 2018-08-08 15:31:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 28,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7763272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_t_rain/pseuds/a_t_rain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ivan agrees to smuggle a teenaged girl onto Jackson's Whole, for totally moral purposes. Naturally, this is the entire Vorrutyer family's fault.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place approximately six months after [Hostage Negotiation is the Family Business](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3275018) (which you don't have to read first) and two and a half years after CVA.
> 
> I'm not sure I can promise to update quite as regularly as I've done with my other chaptered fics in this fandom, but I DO know where I'm going with this, and I do promise to finish!

**Prologue**

“Poor little cub,” said Armsman Szabo.

The sympathy in his voice frightened Donna. Usually, when the armsmen had anything to say about Byerly, it was along the lines of _What has that young devil been up to now?_

“Do you think I did wrong?” she asked anxiously.

“No, my lady.”

That was reassuring. She supposed, objectively speaking, it _was_ wrong to take her father’s best horse without permission, and ride seven miles to fetch a doctor, expressly against her uncle’s wishes – but she trusted Szabo’s judgment rather more than she trusted her father or any of the other adults in the family.

“You had better go to him,” said Szabo after a moment. “His parents don’t, ah, seem to be in the proper frame of mind to look after him.”

This was an understatement. Her aunt and uncle had been closeted together in one of the guest bedrooms of the District house for the last hour, their usual chilly politeness to one another having erupted into a storm of recriminations. The gardener had taken Julia, their younger child, outside to play. But since the doctor had left, no one had stayed with By.

“It isn’t _fair_ , Szabo. Why couldn’t it have been Richars? Or Yves?”

“We don’t know that it isn’t,” Szabo pointed out. More often than not, the Vorrutyers didn’t show symptoms until their late teens or twenties; some had even made it through the Academy physical exams without anyone detecting their condition, only to drop dead without warning later in life. A twelve-year-old with noticeable symptoms was ... bad. Very bad.

An even bleaker thought occurred to Donna. “What’s he going to do about Richars and his brothers if he can’t _run?_ ”

“I don’t know,” said Szabo. “But he’s a clever little fellow. Remember that.”

* * *

Donna tapped on the door of the guest bedroom.

“Who is it?”

“It’s me. Donna.”

“Oh. You can come in, I guess.”

Byerly had been given enough books to occupy him for a while, but he didn’t seem to be reading them. He was sitting hunched-up in bed when Donna entered, and she was conscious of how _small_ he seemed. He’d always been small for his age, but he had seemed to be a perfectly healthy child – until this afternoon, when he’d started gasping for breath in the middle of a game with the armsmen’s children, and Donna had noticed that his fingernails were turning _blue_.

“How are you doing?”

“I’m _fine_. I don’t feel _bad_ any more, truly I don’t.”

Donna sat down on the edge of the bed. “I know. The doctor says you can get up tomorrow, but you’re going to have to be careful after this. You won’t be able to run and play as much as you used to. But you’re growing up, and pretty soon you won’t want to do that anyway.”

He nodded.

“My father’s got the same condition. It’s not so bad, you see he can do most of the things other people do, as long as he’s careful. You’ll manage with it, just like he does.”

“Donna? What does _autosomal dominant_ mean?”

Donna noticed, suddenly, the little circle of darker plaster on the wall, and the dribble of water running down from it. The glass of water they’d given him when they put him to bed was empty. He must have drunk it all right away, she realized, and then used the glass as a listening device. It was so _like_ him, and she thought, all in a rush, how much she loved her bright, inquisitive little cousin, and how _unfair_ it all was.

“It means you won’t have it unless one of your parents does. And ... if someone has it, there’s a fifty-fifty chance one of their children will have it too.”

She didn’t use the m-word, but he was bright enough to figure out most of the implications for himself. She watched his face as he took it in. “Oh. That’s what my parents are fighting about, isn’t it? One of them has it, and didn’t tell the other one.”

“Yes. Probably your da.” Of course, she couldn’t be absolutely sure about that, since By’s parents were second cousins; but his father was her father’s brother, and she was familiar with the present Count’s symptoms.

“Does that mean Julia won’t have it, since I do?”

“Right, she probably won’t,” Donna lied. The curriculum at the girls’ school she attended was heavy on deportment and light on biology and statistics, but she had picked up enough to be pretty sure it didn’t work that way. She wasn’t about to tell By that, any more than she was going to tell him he would probably die from it, one day.

“I don’t mind so much, then.” He thought about it a little more, and then asked, hopefully, “Does it mean I won’t have to go to the service academy?”

Small mercies, Donna thought. “Yes.”

“Good.”

“And you don’t have to let anyone know you’ve got it. You can keep it a secret.” For all that he liked to talk, By was surprisingly good at keeping secrets. “It’s ... better if you do keep it a secret, you understand? Especially if you want to get married when you’re older, or have children of your own.”

“I don’t.”

“You might change your mind.”

“I won’t.” He was making his stubborn face now, lips firmly set, and Donna knew from long experience that she wouldn’t get anywhere by arguing with him.

“Be really careful and don’t tell anybody about it, anyway.”

“All right.”

* * *

It was thirty years later, and Donna had become Count Dono, when a teenaged girl turned up at the gates of the Count’s District house and demanded, “I want to see the fucking Count. Tell him he fucking _owes_ me.”

Armsman Taverner was about to answer with a quelling _The Count is not at home_ , when he looked twice at the girl’s striking, long-lashed brown eyes. “Who are you?”

“Lady Justina Vorrutyer.”

There was, Armsman Taverner knew, no such person; but those eyes suggested that she really was a Vorrutyer, or at the very least a Vorrutyer by-blow. Feeling himself to be out of his depth, he told the girl to wait for a moment, and placed a wristcom call to Szabo, the senior armsman.

* * *

Szabo saw what Taverner had seen, and something else as well: the slightly parted lips, as if the girl were still catching her breath after her hike up the hill, even though she’d been standing at the gates for at least five minutes.

“Come with me,” he said at once. “I’ll take you to him.”

“A word, sir,” said Taverner, pulling him aside. “She was really _quite rude_ when she came here. Do you really think she deserves –”

“We aren’t here to teach her manners,” said Szabo, “we’re here to serve the Count. And I _guarantee_ that the Count will want to see her.”


	2. Ivan Becomes a Mother

_Dear Ivan,_

_I need to speak with you about a personal matter of some importance before you leave for Jackson’s Whole. Vorrutyer House at five o’clock tomorrow afternoon?_

_– D._

Ivan sighed and went to call Dono to confirm. He noticed that the last exchange between his own comconsole and the one at Vorrutyer House had been less than a day earlier, although _he_ certainly hadn’t called over there in weeks.

“Hey, Tej. Have you been talking to Dono? Or Olivia?”

“Yes, Dono called yesterday.”

“What did he want?”

“He wanted to know when we were leaving for Jackson’s Whole. And then he asked if all of my brothers and sisters were planning to be there when By and Rish’s baby was born, and I said yes, she’s going to be the first grandchild in the family and they’re all _awfully_ excited about being aunts and uncles. Then he asked if there was any chance you’d be able to get enough leave to take off a couple of weeks early, and I said yes, you had plenty of saved-up leave time, so that wouldn’t be a problem at all.”

“Huh. Did he say _why_ he was asking all those questions?”

“He said he’d explain it all afterward, but he wanted to talk with you first, and that it was the sort of thing that’s better said face to face.”

That sounded _ominous_ , Ivan thought, particularly when there were Vorrutyers involved. It wasn’t that he _disliked_ the tribe, exactly, but he’d learned to be wary when they went all _cloak and dagger_ on you.

“Oh, and he said he’d cover the shuttle-line fee for changing our tickets. Plus an upgrade to first class, by way of apologizing for the inconvenience. I thought that was awfully nice of him.”

“Vorrutyers don’t _do_ nice,” Ivan muttered. To be fair, they did, on occasion, do _generous_. But this seemed like the sort of generosity that was likely to come with a peculiar set of conditions attached, and he was _wary_ about that sort of thing.

Unfortunately, he really did have an abundance of accumulated leave. He hadn’t taken any vacation time during their two-year exile on Ylla, because there hadn’t been anywhere to go that was nicer than where they already were. He’d used a week of it on the journey home to stop over on Jackson’s Whole and give Tej a chance to see her family, but that was all.

Well, he decided, it couldn’t do any harm to hear Dono out, and he was starting to get curious. He placed the call to confirm the appointment.

* * *

On the following afternoon, one of the Vorrutyer armsmen showed him up to the wing where the family had their private quarters. The Count, he said, was in his study. The door of the study was closed, but in the vestibule outside, a teenaged girl was draped languidly over one of the couches and playing some sort of game on a portable comconsole. She looked sullen, and didn’t bother to greet Ivan.

“Will Dono mind if I interrupt him?” Ivan asked her.

The girl shrugged. “How should _I_ know?”

“He is expecting me, isn’t he?”

“Do I _look_ like his fucking secretary?”

Ivan looked her over; what she looked like, unmistakably, was a _Vorrutyer_. “Are you one of the family?”

“I guess.”

“What’s your name?”

“Lady Justina.”

Lady Justina – who was almost certainly did _not_ have the right to the title she had just claimed for herself, unless some female cousin of Dono’s had married a Count – turned back to her game console, and Ivan knocked at the study door.

“Come in,” said the Count’s pleasant tenor voice.

* * *

Lord Charles Clement Vorrutyer, age three and a half, was in the study with his father. He was clutching a stuffed toy that consisted of a number of colorful hexagons sewn together. There were Cs and Hs stitched on some of the hexagons, and Ivan thought at first that they stood for “Charles,” but there were some other letters that didn’t seem to fit.

“Molecule wants to hide,” the child announced, handing the toy over to Dono.

“All right, CeeCee,” said Dono. “But you need to keep your eyes closed and count to ten, remember?”

Dono hid the molecule behind the bookshelf. CeeCee, who had cheated and opened his eyes somewhere around the count of three, pounced on it gleefully.

“Molecule wants to hide again,” he said, offering it to Ivan.

Ivan covered the child’s eyes with his hand while he thrust the molecule between the cushions of the couch with his other hand. This maneuver kept CeeCee busy hunting for the molecule for a minute or two, long enough for Ivan to ask, “What’s up with all those questions you were asking Tej yesterday?”

“Ah. I’m sorry about the secrecy, but I fear what I am about to tell you may come as a shock to your lady wife, and I thought I’d better leave you free to break the news to her as you see fit.”

“ _What_ news?”

“I’m afraid it’s rather complicated, and parts of it may come as a shock to _you_ too. Have you met Justina yet?”

“Yes. Unfortunately. Who is she, and where does she come from, and why doesn’t she have any manners?”

“Molecule wants to hide again,” CeeCee interrupted, having located the molecule.

“I think we’d better start with the _where does she come from_ part, since that’s really where you come in. You see –”

“Da, I said _molecule wants to hide_.”

Dono sighed. “CeeCee, I’m sorry, but I’m trying to have a grown-up talk with Ivan right now. Why don’t you call Uncle Enrique on the comconsole and tell him how much you like your molecule?”

“Okay,” said CeeCee, and scampered off.

“Can he really use a comconsole?” Ivan asked.

“Sure. They seem to be _born_ knowing how to use comconsoles, these days.”

“Can he really – you know – carry on a conversation with _Enrique?_ ”

“About as well as anybody can. I’m not sure they’re both having the _same_ conversation, mind, but they seem to find it enjoyable.” Dono closed the study door, and turned to Ivan. “Right. So, about Justina. I’m afraid this may not be welcome news after all these years, but she comes from you and me. She’s our daughter.”

Ivan froze, and then began calculating furiously. Justina’s age was about right, but ... “That’s impossible. You had a contraceptive implant.”

“Ivan, dear, women have been known to lie about having contraceptive implants. I’m sure you’ve heard of the phenomenon before.”

“Not you,” said Ivan. “You’re not that kind.”

Dono looked levelly at him. “Maybe not, but I was very desperate,” he said. “I’d been married and divorced twice, without a child to show for it, and with the sort of reputation that would make most men think twice before proposing. My brother had been engaged multiple times, but never got as far as the wedding, and he was already in poor health. Richars was the next heir, unless I offered Pierre an alternative. A bastard would do, as long as he was indisputably Pierre’s nephew. Unfortunately, she turned out to be a _girl_ bastard, so she was useless for my purposes. I found a nice married couple in the District who couldn’t have children of their own and offered to raise her, and I managed to keep the whole thing quiet so that it wouldn’t interfere with my ability to marry again. As far as I knew, Justina was well-looked-after and perfectly happy, until she turned up on the doorstep of the District house last week. The people she’s living with don’t believe in higher education for girls, and she wants a university degree, so she came to me.”

“And where do I come into this?”

“I would like you to take some responsibility for your daughter. I’ve been looking at the legalities, and I think I count as a witness for the acknowledged-bastard oath. I’m male, whatever I may have been in the past, and Vor-caste. You can take the oath in front of me today, get Justina a galactic passport by applying as her parent, and take her with you when you leave for Jackson’s Whole – which ought to happen as soon as you can get away, I think, since her foster-parents have been threatening to track her down and marry her off. I need hardly say that it is against her will.”

“These were the people you left her with? And you’re accusing _me_ of not taking responsibility?”

“I didn’t feel that I had much of a choice at the time. Not if I hoped to have any chance at another marriage, and another child.”

It was typical of the crazy-ass Vorrutyer notion of honor, Ivan thought, that they always tried to make you think they were _worse_ people than they actually were. “Interesting story. But I don’t believe a word of it. Shall I tell you what I think is really going on?”

“By all means. I’m curious to know what you think is really going on.”

“Justina isn’t your daughter, and she definitely isn’t _mine_. She is a Vorrutyer, though.” Ivan considered, very briefly, the possibility that she might be Byerly’s daughter, and decided that he couldn’t really see By abandoning his own child any more than he could see Dono doing it. Besides, that didn’t explain why the girl was calling herself _Lady Justina_. “She’s ... I think she’s Richars’s daughter, and she believes her father is rightfully the Count, and you felt guilty enough that you thought you ought to do something for her.”

“Oh, _very_ good, Ivan! But you’d better be careful – if you keep that up, people will stop _believing_ you’re the dumb one.”

“But I don’t see where I come in, or why you expect me to take her to _Jackson’s Whole_ of all places. I mean, if you want to pay her university fees, that’s your affair and you’re perfectly free to do it without involving anybody else. Or if she’s in a really bad home situation and you need to get her out right now, why can’t you just let her stay here, or at the District house, and lie about it? It’s not like –” (With effort, he restrained himself from saying _it’s not like you’ve ever objected to lying your head off before_ ) “– not like her mother, or whoever has custody, has the authority to search your home.”

“Her mother, legally. But she has several younger brothers, and her uncle Yves has claimed _them_ , so her mother moved in with him. One big, extended, dysfunctional family. The part about her wanting a university education and Yves thinking it was a waste of time for girls is true, by the way. I don’t know her mother’s opinion, but from what I’ve seen of her I doubt she has enough spirit to stand up to Yves, and she doesn’t have any control over such money as there is.”

“You haven’t answered my question about why I’m supposed to take Justina to Jackson’s Whole.”

But Ivan had already started to have a glimmer of an idea why. Dono had made a point of finding out whether _all_ of Tej’s brothers and sisters were going to be around for the birth. But of course they would be; they lived on Jackson’s Whole. Except the one who happened to be a doctor at the most cutting-edge medical facility in the galaxy.

“You want her off-world so she can get medical treatment, don’t you? There’s something the matter with her ... and it’s genetic, so you need it treated discreetly ... Something to do with her heart, isn’t it?”

Dono whistled softly. “Now, how the hell did you know that? Actually, you seem to know more than _I_ know for sure, since she absolutely refuses to see a doctor. But I have ... reason to suspect that is the case, yes.”

“And you ... you want her on _Jackson’s Whole_ , not just off-world. Because you think By can talk her round. Because he can talk about this particular medical condition with a level of authority you _don’t_ have.”

“He told you?”

“Yes.”

Dono nodded. “Pretty much everything you’ve said is absolutely spot-on, which is why I think Jackson’s Whole is the best place for her at the moment. I’d take her there myself, except _I_ am not willing to leave my wife to look after the children and the District while I go haring off halfway across the galaxy.”

There was clearly an _unlike some people_ implied in this last remark. “Miles is a _Lord Auditor_ ,” Ivan protested. “It isn’t like he’s running off on pleasure trips.”

“All right, fine, that was unfair, and I take it back. But to get back to the point, you’re going to Jackson’s Whole anyway, and Justina’s old enough to look after herself, more or less. It won’t be any trouble, you just need to get her a passport and escort her from Point A to Point B.”

Ivan thought over this proposal, frantically trying to come up with an obstacle, and found a suitable one. “Supposing I _did_ agree to go along with this crazy plan of yours, I still couldn’t take her off-planet legally. She’s a girl, and we’re not even married. Not to each other, I mean. As her father, I wouldn’t have _custody_.”

“Ah. But her mother would, or in the absence of a mother who is actually _female_ , I suppose her mother’s female relatives would. Which is where my cousin comes in.”

“Wait, what? Byerly hasn’t decided to have Betan surgery of his own, has he?”

“Of course not.” Dono snorted. “By wouldn’t last a _day_ as a woman – the expectations and the social policing would drive him _crazy_ – and the hilarious part is, he doesn’t even know it, so he probably thinks he’d be happier if he’d been born a girl. But I do have another cousin, one who is indisputably female.” He pushed a button on his wristcom, and said, “Hello, Szabo, could you ask Julia to come up here for a minute, please?”

A minute or two later, a woman entered the study.

“Ivan, I don’t think you know my cousin Julia. Julia, this is Lord Ivan Vorpatril.”

Smaller and lighter of build than Dono, Julia had long-lashed, mischievous brown eyes and a face framed by short, loosely curling dark hair. She was unmistakably Byerly’s sister, and Ivan was disturbed to discover that he found her _attractive_.

“Pleased to meet you, Madame, er...”

“‘Vorrutyer’ will do,” said Julia. “I’m divorced, as of last month. Or, you know, we could pretend we’re _not_ high-Vor and you could just call me by my first name.”

“Julia has agreed to accompany you and Justina to Jackson’s Whole,” said Dono, “and, if necessary, to remain there with her after your departure. Her son’s just started at the Service Academy, so there’s nothing to prevent her from taking an extended off-world trip. And, as long as you take your oath that we’re Justina’s parents, it’s all perfectly legal.”

“The _oath_ part isn’t!” said Ivan. “Look, I’m not doing this, and that’s final. I’m not Justina’s father, and I’m not swearing a false oath.”

Dono sighed. “Yes, I was afraid you would balk at that part. That was the only reason I didn’t tell you the full truth to begin with. Well, there is another way, and it only requires you to be a witness.”

“I’m not _witnessing_ a false oath, either!”

“Well, technically speaking, you’re not witnessing anything about the truth or falsity of the oath, you’re just witnessing the fact that you heard me take it. You can do that, can’t you?”

“I guess,” said Ivan. “But I don’t _like_ any of this. I don’t want to get involved in a plan this crazy.”

“I watched my father and my brother _die_ of this disease,” said Dono bleakly. “Technically, Pierre didn’t die of the condition itself, because it’s not something that _should_ be killing people who have access to modern medicine. He died of the secrecy and ignorance that surround genetic diseases on this planet. I watched _By_ come damn near to dying of it, more than once. I am _not_ about to let that happen in another generation because you don’t want to get _involved_.”

“All right,” said Ivan. “Go on. I’ll witness.”

Dono took a book from the shelf; Ivan recognized it as _A Short Guide to Barrayaran Laws Governing Birth, Adoption, Custody, and Inheritance_. “I, Count Dono Vorrutyer, do hereby acknowledge Justina Vorrutyer as my natural-born daughter, and vow to fulfill all the duties and responsibilities of a father toward the said Justina Vorrutyer, as long as my life shall last. This before all the world I do prefer; this despite the world will I keep safe. I further swear to offer all necessary shelter, succor, and support to the mother of the said Justina Vorrutyer ...” Dono looked up from the book with a slightly doubtful expression, but continued, “... Lord Ivan Vorpatril.”

“The hell? I’m not anyone’s _mother!_ ”

“I _offered_ you the first shot at being her father,” said Dono, “and you turned it down, so you don’t get to complain about being stuck with the leftovers.”

“How am I supposed to be her mother and a male Vor-caste witness at the same time?”

“ _I_ was going to be both of those things, if you hadn’t balked at the original plan, so I don’t see why you can’t be.” Dono added, musingly, “You know, there’s a whole series of children’s books on Beta about all the different shapes families can take. _Suzy Has Two Daddies_ , _Michael Has a Mommy and a Herm_ , _Josefina Has a Polyamorous Collective_. High time we had something like that here.”

“God, this is crazy. _So_ crazy.”

“Yes, it is. But if it’ll ease your conscience, Ivan, I don’t think anything that I swore to was actually _false_.”

“What about the ‘natural-born daughter’ part?”

“Well,” said Dono innocently, “I don’t suppose she could have been a _replicator_ birth. Not if Richars was trying to hide his condition from his wife.”

“What does By think about this whole plan?”

Dono and Julia looked at each other. “I expect he’ll approve of it when he finds out,” said Dono after a moment.

“You haven’t _told_ him?”

“No. And I am not going to tell him, because I don’t want to put him in the position of having to decide whether to report it or not. Better for everyone if he doesn’t know Justina’s coming until she arrives.”

“So you want me to totally blind-side him?”

Dono shrugged. “I doubt he’ll mind. By usually _enjoys_ that sort of thing. At least, he enjoys it when he’s doing it to other people, and it will do him good to be on the receiving end for a change.”

Ivan snorted. When you thought about it like that, the idea had a certain appeal. But ... “What about Julia?”

“What about me?” Julia asked.

“By doesn’t _talk_ to most people in his family, and he doesn’t even seem to want to talk _about_ his sister. What’s he going to say when she suddenly turns up on his doorstep?”

Dono and Julia looked at each other. “Trust me,” said Dono, “I don’t think he’ll be unhappy to see Julia.”

“I don’t know why I should trust you,” grumbled Ivan. “You’ve just spent most of the last hour lying your head off.”

“Fair enough,” said Julia. “Will this do?” She took a reader from her purse, tapped it, and handed it to Ivan.

The style of the tightbeam message was only too familiar. _Dear Julia, I’m not sure if it’s quite the done thing to congratulate someone on a divorce, but I do hope you’ll have a very big party and burn things in effigy and cause the neighbors to call the municipal guards. I shall be there in spirit._

_I’m sorry to say we’ve lost Contraband; he just went to sleep one day and never woke up. He was sixteen, which is a good run for a cat, but I miss having him about the place. Rish has been trying to interest me in getting one of these new sphinx things that they have here, but I don’t think that would be the same at all..._

“All right,” said Ivan, handing back the reader, “so Julia is one of the relatives he likes. That still doesn’t change the fact that this whole plan is completely insane. Do you know what they _call_ people who smuggle teenaged girls onto Jackson’s Whole with false papers?”

“They won’t be false papers,” said Dono, “and there’s no _smuggling_ involved. Now that I’ve taken the oath, you and I are legally her parents, and entitled to apply for a galactic passport on her behalf, and Julia, as her female next-of-kin, should be legally able to take her off-planet. And Justina’s going of her own free will. I’m not asking you to _kidnap_ her.”

“Have you actually _met_ Justina? Because from what I’ve seen of her, I’d be really surprised if she’s doing _anything_ of her own free will.”

“Yes, of course I’ve met Justina. She’s been staying with me for the last week. She may have a few ... attitude issues ... but she’s made it clear that she prefers remaining in my care to going back to her uncle’s house, and _I’ve_ made it clear what my conditions are. It’s an entirely voluntary arrangement.” At Ivan’s continued look of skepticism, Dono sighed and said, “All right, to the extent that being a teenaged girl on Barrayar is _ever_ a voluntary arrangement. But this is the best of the various bad choices available to Justina, and Justina is aware of that fact, and she’s agreed to go.”

“What’s By going to think about your inflicting a bratty teenage cousin on him?”

Dono’s mouth twisted into the sly Vorrutyer smirk, an expression with which Ivan was all too familiar. “If he complains about Justina being a brat – which I don’t think he will, by the way – you’re to remind him that _I_ had to cope with him when he pitched a fit at Pierre’s coming-of-age party because all the little girls there had prettier _shoes_ than he did. So really, it’s only fair.”

“What happened?” asked Ivan, momentarily diverted.

“I talked the little girl closest to his size into swapping. _She_ was delighted to have shoes that were actually _comfortable_. And By was perfectly happy. His father was ... not.” The laughter had suddenly faded out of both Dono’s and Julia’s eyes, and their expressions suggested this was an extreme understatement.

“You know,” said Julia, “Richars’s branch of the family hasn’t exactly ... evolved at all. Keep in mind these are the people who raised Justina.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry about Contraband! However, since I'd made him an adult or nearly-adult cat at the time of By's training (eight years prior to ACC), he couldn't live forever, alas.


	3. Welcome to Jackson's Whole

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The [2016 Bujold Ficathon](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Bujold_Ficathon_2016) is open for prompts and claims!

“I hope Byerly is not involving you in any of his extracurricular activities,” commented Ivan’s mother, when he informed her that he and Tej would be leaving for Jackson’s Whole nearly two weeks earlier than they had planned. “He _knows_ that if he wants assistance with anything, he ought to inform the consulate on Hargraves-Dyne Station or the Galactic Affairs office on Komarr.”

“By doesn’t even know we’re coming early,” said Ivan, with perfect truth. “It’s a surprise. Tej wanted to have some more time to visit with her family, that’s all,” he added less truthfully. “What sort of extracurricular activities?”

“God knows,” said Lady Alys. “ _I_ have stopped trying to predict what he will take it into his head to do next. I only know that I keep having to talk that nice Captain Morozov down from the ledge. That sort of thing is _remarkably_ difficult to do by tightbeam.”

“Wait, what? Why do _you_ have to talk to Captain Morozov? I didn’t know you even knew him.”

“Because he is Byerly’s superior in Galactic Affairs, and the only other person whose level of experience with him is comparable to mine has quit ImpSec for good.”

“Can’t blame him.”

“And then he went to work for Count Dono instead.”

Fate, Ivan thought, was obviously taking a hand in this conversation, providing him with a perfect opening to say, _Oh, as long as we’re talking about Count Dono, please don’t be concerned if you hear anything about my having a bastard child with him, because it’s not really true and anyway it’s all under control..._ He decided to ignore the prompting of Fate. He was _quite good_ at doing that.

“I am really quite fond of both Byerly and Dono,” Lady Alys continued, “but it cannot be denied that they have a _peculiar effect_ on some people, not unlike the influence of a mildly addictive drug.” She was looking at Ivan with slightly narrowed eyes, as if suspecting him of being a closet Vorrutyer-fiend.

He decided to change the subject. “Could you stop by the Reproductive Center every so often while we’re gone, and have a look-in at the embryo?”

“Of course, dear,” said his mother, softening visibly, as she always did whenever anyone mentioned her grandchild-in-prospect. “I’ll have to pick out some music to play when I visit. It’s never to early to start cultivating a taste for opera.”

“Um. I’m not sure he has _ears_ yet,” said Ivan, but his mother was already scrolling through the sound files on her comconsole. “You know, you could always have one of your own if you wanted to be sure of getting the tastes right. You and Simon, I mean.” (This was a safe remark to make, because his mother had already made it clear that they had no intention of doing anything of the sort. Besides, _she_ had been nagging _him_ about settling down and starting a family for almost fifteen years, so he figured turnabout was fair play.)

“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Lady Alys. “ _I_ have no intention of dealing with two a.m. feedings again at my age, and Simon has no regrets about having missed them altogether. Regardless of what your Aunt Cordelia seems to think, not everybody wants _all the possible babies all the time_.”

Huh, apparently he’d hit a _nerve_. He tried not to let his expression betray how much he was savoring the moment.

“Besides,” his mother continued, “although I admit that babies have a certain appeal, I refuse to go through the _teenage_ years ever again. Once was one time too many.”

Ivan thought of Justina and agreed – so heartily that his mother started giving him suspicious looks again.

* * *

“Ivan Xav?” said Tej when she came home from her Sanskrit class that evening. “Where did all these _kittens_ come from?”

“Well, you know how Miles’s cats are always having kittens, and he’s always trying to give them away...”

“Yes, and I know you’ve always refused to take one...”

“Because I don’t _want_ an annoying little furball about the place. But I thought, you know, I might inflict one on By. Because that would serve him right.” Ivan didn’t bother to specify _which_ of Byerly’s myriad sins warranted punishment with a kitten, because really, how could you even pick?

“One?”

“Yeah, that was what Miles asked, too. And then he said, didn’t I think it would be lonely to be the only kitten on Jackson’s Whole? So I said all right, I’ll take two. And then he asked what sort of colors and patterns I thought By would like best, and, I mean, how would _I_ know what By would like? Except of course he _would_ have opinions about that, and he’d want a pretty one, wouldn’t he? So I thought this little calico was the prettiest. Only it’s got short hair, and his old cat was one of those really fluffy ones, so I thought maybe I should take a long-haired one too, just in case, and this white one had the longest fur. And then Miles said a lot of people favor striped cats, and this grey one had the best set of stripes – but for all I know, By likes _orange_ stripes, because that would be just like him, so I thought I’d better take one of those too...”

“I see,” said Tej, who seemed to find this whole explanation inexplicably amusing.

“Miles said he’d take back whichever ones By didn’t want,” said Ivan, although Tej was already down on the floor wadding up bits of paper for the four kittens to chase, and he somehow didn’t think he was going to end up taking _any_ of them back to Miles. Maybe he could get used to an annoying little furball. Or two. They _were_ awfully cute.

* * *

“Same-sex couple?” inquired the friendly Komarran lady clerk, as Ivan was puzzling over the application for Justina’s galactic passport. “Yes, we see a lot of that these days. The forms haven’t quite caught up.”

“Um.” Ivan went red. “Not exactly. It’s complicated.”

“Oh! Split up, have you?”

“Ummm. Yes.” This had the virtue of being true, if a bit misleading.

“Too bad. Yes, you can just put your name over there where it says ‘mother,’ they’ll understand what it means.” The clerk looked Ivan over appraisingly. “You know, you look like you might be my brother’s type. Do you want his comcode?”

“No thanks.” Ivan finished filling in his name and Dono’s, no titles, and handed the form back to the clerk. Thank mercy, she seemed to be Komarran enough not to be up on high-Vor gossip, and made no further _remarks_. It was probably too much to hope that anyone else who got access to the form would be equally oblivious, but he took refuge in the fact that there were a _lot_ of Ivan Vorpatrils on Barrayar.

Justina remained resolutely sullen as the clerk took her image and biometric data, but since you weren’t supposed to smile anyway, he guessed that didn’t matter.

“Hey,” Ivan ventured, once they were outside the passport office, “cheer up. It’s your first trip off-planet, isn’t it? Aren’t you a little excited?”

“ _I_ don’t want to go on this trip. I only agreed because Dono said he wouldn’t pay for me to go to university if I didn’t. It’s not like _I_ want to meet his stupid traitorous thief of a cousin.”

“By’s not –” said Ivan, and stopped himself just in time. As far as the general public was concerned, By _was_ wanted for collusion to steal a priceless cache of Barrayaran historical artifacts, and even if Dono and Julia knew better, they probably weren’t free to share that knowledge with Justina.

“Not what?”

“Not stupid. Whatever else he may be. Did Dono tell you anything about _why_ he wants you to meet him?”

Justina shrugged. “I think he has some idea that if I would just listen to Byerly _explain_ why he did what he did to my father, I’d be falling all over myself to _forgive_ him.” She rolled her eyes. “ _Not_ bloody well happening.”

“Do you want to get an ice cream or something?” Ivan suggested, since it seemed only right to get to know Justina a _little_ before he committed to a two-week shuttle trip across the galaxy with her.

“I hate ice cream.”

“Coffee?” said Ivan, wondering just how weird a person had to be to hate ice cream.

“No.”

“Just back to Vorrutyer House, then?”

“Whatever.”

* * *

“Timezit?” muttered Byerly into his pillow.

“Five-thirty in the morning,” said Rish, slipping back into bed beside him. “Go back to sleep.”

“What are you doing up at five-thirty in the morning?” To be sure, Rish sometimes had middle-of-the-night bursts of creativity, and got up for an hour or so to play around with the choreography programs on her comconsole; he was used to that. But several times a night, for several nights running, seemed excessive.

“Practicing,” said Rish. “For after the baby is born.”

 _After the baby is born_ still seemed like a comfortably abstract future time, as far as By was concerned, never mind the well-furnished little nursery across the hall and the gifts that were starting to pile up. “Wouldn’t it be better to get some sleep while we still can?”

“Mm-hmm.” Rish snuggled up next to him. “Going back to sleep right now.”

“Do Jacksonians always practice getting up at night before they have babies?” This didn’t really seem like the sort of thing you’d need to _rehearse_ , but the Arquas seemed to think all sorts of things he’d never heard of in his life were essential when you had a baby; Udine was already laying out the plans for something mysterious called a Discernment Garden.

“I don’t know,” said Rish, “but I think it’ll be easier if I’m in the _habit_.”

He stroked her hair and discovered that it was cold, like a Jackson’s Whole dawn. Her fingers and nose were cold, too. “Been outside?”

“Just over to my parents’. To check on something.”

“What kind of something?”

“You’ve got a _lot_ of questions,” said Rish, and then, unreassuringly, “Don’t worry, you’ll find out all about it later, and I’m pretty sure you’ll like it when you do.”

“Umm,” said By, remembering all too well the last time Rish and her parents had decided to be mysterious. “Is this the sort of thing that involves your grandmother saying a gigantic ‘fuck you’ to the entire Cetagandan haut? Because as gratifying as I may have found that moment on a personal level, I have to point out that wasn’t actually a message my employers _wanted_ any of their allies to send at all.”

“No, silly. Nothing like that. Promise.”

“Does it have _anything_ to do with Cetagandans in _any_ way whatsoever?”

“Nope.”

Byerly decided that, in that case, it could wait for a time that wasn’t five-thirty in the morning. He rolled over and went back to sleep.

* * *

Justina grew, if anything, even less personable during the journey to Jackson’s Whole. Ivan attempted to engage her in conversation by asking her what she wanted to study at the university. She said, rather unenthusiastically, “Reproductive technology or terraforming or interplanetary business communications,” but when Ivan tried to draw her out about what interested her about each of these fields, she muttered, “None of your damn business,” and turned back to her portable game console.

Tej, who was usually able to charm anyone she met, had no better luck. Neither did Julia, who was sharing a cabin with Justina.

“Ivan,” said Julia as she joined them in the first-class cocktail lounge on the third day, “I do think you owe me a cocktail in exchange for putting up with Justina. One of those sparkly ones with the raspberries will do nicely.”

Ivan and Tej glanced at each other, and ordered an entire _pitcher_.

“ _Thank_ you,” said Julia, filling champagne flutes for the three of them. “Do you think we ought to offer Justina a cocktail? It might mellow her out.”

“I don’t think we can,” said Ivan. “This is a Betan carrier, and they’re crazy-strict about underage drinking. No under-25s in the bar area, no taking alcohol out.”

“ _Twenty-five?_ ”

“Yeah, that’s the drinking age on Beta. It has to do with when the frontal lobe of the brain stops developing, or something like that.”

“I had a _two-year-old_ when I was twenty-five,” said Julia, “and if anyone had tried to tell me I couldn’t have a drink, there would have been _hell_ to pay.”

“So, what’s By like as an uncle, out of curiosity?” asked Ivan.

“Oh, perfectly decent,” said Julia. “He remembers to send birthday and Winterfair presents, and all that. Occasionally he even thinks to consult my son’s tastes instead of his own.”

“So. Not the most hands-on of uncles, then?”

“No,” Julia admitted, “but I think he’ll step up with Justina. I mean, _my_ kid has two perfectly functional parents, even if we weren’t the best fit for each _other_.”

“Where is Justina, anyway?” asked Tej.

“Hanging out at the pool and trying to flirt with boys,” said Julia. “That seems to be the only thing she’s interested in doing. And since she flirts about as naturally and fluently as she swears, I don’t think she can get into very much trouble.”

“She’ll like my family’s compound, then,” said Tej. “We’ve got a _great_ swim complex. Geothermally heated.”

“I’m not sure she _swims_ so much as _poses_. Silly girl. But at least it makes her put away the game console for a while. Oh, talking of games...” Julia took a copy of the shuttle-line magazine out of her purse. “Are either of you good at three-dimensional crosswords? I can’t get any further with this one.”

“Not really,” said Ivan. “I don’t care for puzzles.” Thank goodness, somebody had already filled out all of the math puzzles on the opposite page from the holo-crossword; Ivan _really_ hated those.

“Let me see,” said Tej, and filled in a few more of the blank spaces before handing the magazine back to Julia. “I can’t get any further, either.”

Julia put the magazine back. “I’ll save it for By, he’s good at that sort of thing.”

* * *

The one thing that Justina did show a definite interest in was the kittens. She seemed to have bonded with the long-haired white one, although Ivan was damned if he knew why, since it was skittish and temperamental and not at all cuddly like the others. (Well, maybe that _was_ why. He did see a certain resemblance.)

His own favorite, and Tej’s favorite too, was the good-natured orange tabby. Byerly needn’t think he was going to get to keep _that_ one.

* * *

Tej had tightbeamed her family from the Hegen Hub, announcing their early arrival but carefully avoiding any mention of Justina or Julia. When they arrived at Fell Station, there was a reply waiting from Rish: _I’m working on a project and can’t get away for more than a few hours. You can get an air-cab to the compound and By and I will meet you at the gate, or I could send one of the others to meet you at the shuttleport._

“Aircab,” said Ivan decisively, because he really didn’t want a random Arqua coming out to meet, and probably be insulted by, Justina. Depending on which member of the family they drew, it could end in blood.

Tej nodded. “I think so, too.”

* * *

“At the gate,” Ivan knew from his previous visit, was a good ten kilometers from anywhere. Since their return to Jackson’s Whole, the Arquas had elected to spend much of their time downside – having decided that the orbital station was a shade too tempting a target for the former Baron Prestene, whereabouts currently unknown. They had expanded their country villa into a family compound that wasn’t quite a bunker, but was shielded by a serious force-fence, with plenty of buffer space between their homes and the outside world.

Air-cabs worked the same way on Jackson’s Whole as they did anywhere, except Ivan and Tej had to negotiate the driver down from her exorbitant first offer. The price they eventually settled on was _still_ unnaturally high, to Ivan’s mind, but Tej shrugged, and said it sounded about right to her. Apparently the tolls for traveling through private airspace got passed on to the customer.

“How do the tolls work?” Julia asked.

“It’s automatic,” said Tej. “Every vehicle has an embedded debit chit, and when you enter someone’s territory, it triggers a sensor that causes the toll to be deducted.”

“And how many different, uh, syndicates are we paying off?”

“Four, probably. If you fly in a straight line, it’s six, but there are a couple you can skirt.”

Sure enough, Ivan noted that the aircab seemed to be taking an odd, zigzag route; he was glad that Tej had explained, because otherwise he would have accused the driver of trying to run up the fare. Of course, it was entirely possible that she was doing that _too_. Damn Jacksonians.

Justina spent most of the ride with her cheek pressed up against the window, gazing at the twilit expanses of scrub and snow with an utterly blank expression. _Julia_ was the one with the wide-eyed, I-can’t-believe-I’m-really-on-a-new-planet look, and she spent much of the trip questioning Tej about Jackson’s Whole. Was there always this much snow? Where were the cities and towns? Was there a central capital, or did the baronages all function as independent countries? Who was in charge of terraforming? Were there any real trees?

The flight was uneventful until they landed and paid the fare. The driver went around to unlock the luggage bay and unload their bags; Julia, Ivan, Tej, and Justina were on their way down the exit ramp when they were greeted by a burst of stunner fire.

* * *

Julia, who had been the first one out of the aircab, crumpled and fell. An instant later, the guard who had shot her also fell. Ivan, who had just been mentally cursing the fact that he didn’t have a stunner of his own, registered that someone must be covering them. There was a rapid exchange of fire, and Tej pushed Justina down and covered her with her body, barely ducking one of the stunner beams.

 _Good work_ , thought Ivan, _stunner fire is dangerous for people with heart conditions_ , and then, _oh shit, By has a heart condition_. And By was standing fully exposed with his stunner out; Ivan watched as he grimly and expertly plugged a guard who was aiming at him.

Ivan ran forward and tackled him. “What are you _doing_ , you fool? Get _down_.”

“Oof – let _go_ , Ivan.” He’d succeeded in forcing By down into the snow, but By was fighting back for all he was worth, and Ivan might have the advantage of size, but By fought hard and dirty and was surprisingly strong. “This might be kind of sexy – under different circumstances – but right now – get out of my _way_.” 

Ivan felt a sharp pain in his knee, and instinctively drew it up. Byerly struggled clear of him, stunned another guard – and then fell limp and motionless in the snow.

Ivan gained control of the stunner, shot the guard who’d just shot Byerly – _this one’s for you, By_ – and then dropped his weapon and threw up his hands. “I surrender. Get this man a doctor, _now_.”

Rish dropped to her knees beside Byerly’s inert body. “It’s all right, he’s breathing.” She looked up and addressed the two guards who were still standing. “Gil, Jos, don’t be stupid, Ivan isn’t going to shoot you, and you know Tej and I aren’t going to shoot you. Stand down.”

“What about the girl?” One of the guards indicated Justina with his weapon. She was pale and shaking, but uninjured.

“I vouch for her,” said Tej. “She’s with Ivan Xav and me, and she’s not armed. Don’t stun her, please.”

“What _possessed_ you to bring people who weren’t on the list of allowed visitors?” Rish demanded of her sister. “I wouldn’t expect _Ivan_ to know any better, but _you_ certainly ought to!”

“I’d forgotten how _paranoid_ everyone was here,” muttered Tej, who was trying her best to calm Justina. Justina was swearing up a storm at the guards, which struck Ivan as an unwise thing to do to people who had weapons aimed at you.

“We’re not _paranoid_ ,” said Rish, “we’re _prudent_. There’s a difference. It’s got to do with whether or not there really are people who are out to get you.”

“Well, you might hire some guards who have a bit of common sense!” Tej retorted. “It should have been _perfectly_ obvious that they were with _us_ , and why would we be bringing people who were out to get you?”

Ivan struggled to his feet. His knee was painful, but didn’t seem to be too badly damaged. “Before the two of you start arguing, could somebody go and get Amiri?”

Rish opened the case that held Julia’s float-skiing equipment and began strapping the skis on. “I’ll go. Tej, you’d better ... explain matters to the guards.”

“I’m not sure I _can_ explain everything,” said Tej. “What was By _thinking_ when he started shooting _back?_ ”

“Is this his sister?” Rish asked, indicating Julia. 

Tej nodded. 

“That’s what he was thinking. Didn’t you know he’d do anything to protect _her?_ ”

“I guess I know now,” said Tej, in a wondering sort of voice.

Rish took off on Julia’s float-skis. The guards picked up the unconscious Vorrutyers and tossed them onto the sledge, with rather more force than Ivan thought necessary. “Hey,” he said, “you might stop throwing them around like slabs of _meat_.”

Gil and Jos shrugged. “They’re _suspicious persons_ ,” one of them explained, as if that were some sort of excuse.

“Yeah, well, Rish won’t like it if you break their _necks_. Neither will the Baron and Baronne. Probably.” Ivan checked once again to make sure By and Julia were still breathing; they were, but shallowly. It was weird seeing a Vorrutyer totally drained of _personality_. It made them look surprisingly small.

“That’ll be fifty Betan dollars extra,” said the driver, who was still standing beside her cab, holding the kitten carrier. “Hazard pay.”


	4. Moral Purposes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The [Bujold Ficathon](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Bujold_Ficathon_2016/requests) continues! Lots of unclaimed prompts, no time limit on adding more.

When they arrived at the Arquas’ country villa, Amiri gave By and Julia a cursory inspection and a hypospray of synergine apiece. Ivan thought he seemed entirely too nonchalant.

“The guards were really throwing them around. You’d better check to make sure they haven’t broken any bones.”

Amiri produced a hand-held diagnostic viewer and passed it over their bodies. “Nope. They’ll likely have a few bruises, but that’s all. People don’t break very easily, you know, especially if they’re completely limp. _Most_ people don’t, anyway.” He looked up at Ivan and remarked, “You’re limping, yourself. What happened to you?”

“I don’t know. I think By kicked me.”

“Sit down.” Amiri passed the viewer over Ivan’s knee. “Good, no damage to you either.”

Julia had started to twitch; a moment later, she sat up and said, “Ugh, I feel like I’ve just been run over by a groundcar.”

“That’s par for the course for a stunner hangover,” said Amiri. “Just take it easy for a minute or two. Do you need to throw up?” Julia was looking awfully pale, but she shook her head. “All right, good. I’ll be right beside you in case you get lightheaded, but I think it’s better if I take you to my parents and sister right away so you can explain who you are. They can be, ah, a bit paranoid. Can you stand up?”

Julia got to her feet, shakily.

“Excellent,” said Amiri. “You can stay here, Ivan, I’ll be right back with a cold pack for your knee and some ointment for those scratches on your face.”

“Painkillers, too?” Ivan asked hopefully.

“Painkillers all round,” Amiri agreed. “And to think I expected this to be a _vacation_.”

Byerly still hadn’t stirred by the time Amiri returned. “Is he really all right?” Ivan asked.

“Oh, sure, he’ll be fine,” said Amiri. “I don’t particularly _recommend_ stunning people with his condition, as a regular thing, but if it were going to stop his heart, it would have happened right away.”

“It’s been at least ten minutes since you gave him the synergine, and he hasn’t come round.”

“That’s because they seem to have set their stunners on max. Which I wouldn’t recommend for _anybody_ , from a medical point of view, but I can’t blame them for doing it, since he was an active shooter. He’ll have a hell of a hangover when he comes round – as anyone would – and he might be a bit disoriented, but that’s all. Could you stay here and keep an eye on him, Ivan, just to make sure he doesn’t go wandering out into the snow or anything?”

“Sure,” said Ivan, and Amiri went off to join what sounded like a contentious family conclave on the subject of what to do with Julia and Justina.

* * *

Byerly finally stirred and opened his eyes. “Ivan, for the love of God give me some of those painkillers.”

Ivan pushed the bottle toward him.

“Water?” By suggested.

Dammit, he was going to have to stand up. “Yeah, sure. I’ll get some.” Ivan limped to the kitchen and filled a glass with water. 

Byerly swallowed a couple of the painkillers and shut his eyes again, looking legitimately miserable. “Julia all right?” he asked after a moment.

“Yeah, she’s fine. Can I get you anything else, while I’m up?”

After complying with requests for _orange juice with ice, but not too much ice_ and _tea with honey and lemon, the natural kind, not synthetic_ , Ivan was inclined to suspect By of taking advantage.

“Would your majesty like anything else? Peeled grapes, room service?”

“That would be _delightful_ ,” said By, “but I suppose you’re being sarcastic, as usual.” His eyes flickered open, and he watched Ivan for a moment. “You’re limping.”

“You kicked me.”

“Did I? Sorry. But you kept getting in the way.”

“Of you shooting your own bodyguards, yeah. What were you _thinking?_ ”

“When people hurt my little sister,” said By, “there are Consequences.”

“You pretty nearly took my eye out while you were at it. Is _that_ how they teach you to fight in ImpSec? Fingernails and elbows every which way?”

“No,” said By, “that was ... self-taught. I’m sorry if it doesn’t meet with your military standards, but it serves. ImpSec _did_ teach me how to shoot, though.”

“I’ll say,” said Rish, who had just entered the room. “Star wasn’t thrilled with what you did to the guards. She says she doesn’t know _how_ she’ll staff the night shift.”

“How many of them did I take out?”

“Four,” said Rish. She squeezed his hand. “Overachiever.”

“Only three,” Ivan corrected. “One of them was mine.”

Byerly stared at him. “ _You_ were shooting at our guards? Whatever for?”

“Yeah, well. When people hurt my friends, there are Consequences.”

“Ivan, did I just hear you use the f-word? _Such_ language!”

Ivan tried to mutter something appropriately spiky, along the lines of _don’t get too used to it_ , but neither By nor Rish seemed to be buying it very much.

“How’s Justina?” By asked suddenly.

“I think she’s going to be all right,” said Rish, “but she was very shaken up. Star tried to question her separately to see if her story tallied with Tej’s and Julia’s, and she kept saying she didn’t know anything about anything and then burst into tears, so finally Topaz gave her some hot chocolate and showed her to one of the spare bedrooms.”

“Good. She must have been terribly jump-lagged if it’s her first off-world trip. Topaz is a sweetheart. I hope someone remembered to thank her.”

“Well, if anyone did, it wouldn’t have been Justina,” said Ivan. “I don’t think she knows _how_ to thank people.” He realized, belatedly, that By hadn’t exactly been _introduced_ to her. “Wait, how did you even know who Justina _was?_ ”

“I’ve seen her before,” said By. “Don’t forget, I spent a month pretending to be her father’s best friend.”

“The apple hasn’t fallen far from _that_ tree, I can tell you,” said Ivan. “She’s a _rude_ little brat. She hardly had a civil word to say the whole journey. Especially not to your sister, who had to room with her.”

“I doubt she’s had too many people in her life to model good manners. Who’s been raising her?”

“Her mother, and one of Richars’s brothers.”

“Which one?”

“Yves.”

“In that case, I can’t blame her in the _least_ for having a chip on her shoulder. When I said a minute ago that what I did to you was self-taught ... it was actually mostly Yves-taught. Richars and their other brother Gerard ... helped, but Yves was the one who was in my class at school. There was never any getting away from _him_.”

Amiri breezed in. “Guards should be fine. I told Star to give them the night off. She had half a mind to order _you_ to cover for them, By, but I told her you needed a night off too. How are you feeling?”

Byerly leaned back against the cushions and shut his eyes. “Absolutely _shattered_. Haven’t you got any of the _good_ painkillers, Amiri dear?”

“Nice try.”

“Another shot of synergine?”

“No,” said Amiri, “because you don’t really need it, and what you _do_ need is a good night’s sleep, which you won’t get if I pump you full of stimulants. Don’t let him stay up all night talking, Ivan. By, how about making room for somebody else on the sofa?” Amiri prodded By until he finally half-sat up. “So, this girl – your niece, is it?”

“Cousin-once-removed. But ‘niece’ will do. I think I’m sort of _in loco avunculi_ at the moment, if I understand the situation correctly.”

“Rish says she’s got a heart murmur that sounds identical to yours.”

“Of course she does. I knew she would as soon as I saw her.”

Amiri shook his head. “I understand where _Rish_ gets her long-range diagnostic abilities, but I’m damned if I know where _yours_ are coming from.”

“Inductive reasoning. Plus knowledge of the family history.”

“She won’t let me have a look at her. Refused point blank when I suggested she ought to be checked for shock.”

“Well, don’t push her. She’s on a strange planet among strange people. And – I don’t know how much you know about Barrayaran attitudes toward genetic illnesses, but she’ll have been told it’s something shameful that she needs to keep hidden at all costs. And she’s certainly not going to drop down dead from it today or tomorrow.”

“Maybe not,” said Ivan, “but she’s kind of _here_ so Amiri can have a look at her. I gathered from Dono that was the whole point.”

Byerly shrugged. “So you’re all staying here a while, aren’t you? Give her a little time.”

“All right,” said Amiri, looking none too enthusiastic. “ _I_ am going to bed. I’d suggest you and your sister do the same before too long.”

* * *

Julia, released from the family interrogation, settled into the space Amiri had vacated and snuggled up next to By. “Thanks for looking after me.”

“No problem,” he said, sitting up straighter and pulling away a little. “That’s what older brothers are _for_.”

“ _Oh_ , it’s so good to see you,” said Julia, and then, without pausing for answers, “Have you been well, are you really and truly happy here, are all of those strange people good to you, will you tell me what it’s really _like_ and not just the amusing bits that you put in your letters?”

“I’ll just let the two of you catch up with each other, shall I?” said Ivan, and limped to the door.

“No, I need you to stay here,” said Byerly. Ivan thought his speech sounded a little slurred, and wondered if he was really as well recovered as Amiri seemed to think, so he stayed, although Julia was looking as if she would have preferred to be left alone with her brother.

“How was your trip?” asked By.

“ _Tedious_. I was rooming with Justina. Have you met Justina yet?”

“A long time ago. She would have been about nine or ten.”

“Well,” said Julia, somewhat dubiously, “I’m sure that was a better age than whatever she is now. I don’t remember Henri ever being that antisocial, but maybe girls are different.”

“How’s Henri doing at the Academy?”

“Fine. He seems to like it, actually. I’m not really sure why.”

“Takes after his Da.”

“Yeah. _Our_ Da’s doing fine, by the way.”

Byerly stiffened slightly. “I didn’t ask.”

“I know, that’s why I’m telling you anyway. I haven’t heard anything from Mother, but at least my letters to her have stopped being returned with ‘RETURN TO SENDER - DECEASED’ written on them.”

“Um,” said Ivan. “Doesn’t that mean there isn’t any point in writing any more letters after that?”

Julia and By exchanged a look. “Ordinarily, yes,” said Julia, “but it was _her_ handwriting.”

“Oh,” said Ivan, privately resolving not to ask any more questions about the family affairs of Vorrutyers. They never made _sense_.

“Tell me more about Justina,” said By. “What are her angles? I mean, what interests and motivates her?”

“Vid-gaming,” said Ivan, at the same time that Julia said, “Getting a university degree.”

“What does she want to study?”

“Rep-tech, terraforming, or interplanetary business communications.”

“That’s ... eclectic.”

Ivan shrugged. “That’s what she said.”

“Anything else?”

Julia considered. “Interested in galactic boys. Not terribly good yet at making them interested back. That’s probably just as well, because I think it might freak her out a bit if they were.”

“Ah. A touch more rebellious in theory than in practice?”

“That’s _it_. Exactly.”

“Yves is about as old-Vor as they get,” said By, as if thinking out loud. “She’ll have been sheltered. Except possibly from the things she _should_ have been sheltered from.”

* * *

Byerly woke earlier in the morning than usual, although sunlight was already flooding the bedroom. His bed was annoyingly Rish-less, but that was all too common these days. He wondered, once again, what she was _doing_ during her night visits to her parents' villa; but he knew, from hard experience, that if the Baron and Baronne didn’t want him to find out, he wouldn’t.

He rolled over into the hollow left by Rish’s body, which was, alas, no longer warm. He felt a little rough around the edges, as if he were slightly hung over, and reached instinctively for the glass of water on the nightstand. Funny, he thought as he closed his eyes again, he didn’t _think_ he’d been drinking heavily last night...

He remembered, and was suddenly wide awake. He hadn’t been drinking at _all_ last night. Instead, a lot of ... other things ... had happened, some of which were going to have to be _dealt_ with.

He threw on his bathrobe and slippers, not even bothering to make sure they matched, and went to see what was going on.

In addition to the off-planet visitors, several of Rish’s siblings had joined them for breakfast. Rish had made a couple of Jacksonian breakfast favorites: crepe-like pancakes with a sweet cheese filling, and potatoes fried up with onions, chili peppers, and chunks of spicy sausage. (Jacksonian food, as a rule, was hearty and spicy, the product of a cold climate and a race of people who were continually seeking to outdo each other in badassery.) There was also a colorful tropical fruit salad and a pot of groats with maple syrup. This last was no doubt a concession to the depraved tastes of their Barrayaran visitors, since Rish didn’t really believe groats were edible.

“That looks delicious, my dear.”

“It is,” said Rish. “No thanks to _you. Ivan_ helped with the onions and peppers while you were being a lazybones.” (Rish didn’t ordinarily require a lot of sous-chefing – she took deep, sensual pleasure in almost every aspect of preparing food – but she found onions and chilis hard to deal with because of her enhanced senses.)

Ivan shot him an insufferably smug look, which was ridiculous. Really, if _Ivan_ was some sort of domestic god, then By was the Emperor.

“I was recovering from a _stunner hangover_ ,” By protested.

“So’s Julia,” said Rish, “and _she_ was up at seven-thirty making groats.” Ah, that explained the groats.

He helped himself to a generous amount of everything, and then brought his breakfast out to the sun porch where Justina was sitting. The porch was edged with stained glass in a grapevine pattern. Justina, unaware of his presence for the moment, stuck out her bare toes and wiggled them in the green and purple light. For a moment, she looked very much like the child he remembered from his brief period of intimacy with Richars.

He took a step forward, and she glanced up, startled, and then relaxed: _oh, it’s only you_. So: she was afraid, but not of him, particularly. He could _use_ that.

“Good morning, Justina,” he said. Casually-friendly tone, smiling just enough to seem approachable but not ingratiating.

“That’s _Lady_ Justina to you,” said the girl, unsmiling. She drew in her feet.

“Do we need to be that formal? I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced, but I’m your cousin Byerly. By, for short.”

“I know who you are,” said Justina. “You betrayed my father.”

 _Right, so much for any hope that this might be easy_. “Yes,” he said, looking her in the eye. “I did. Did you want to ask me anything about that?”

“No, I don’t fucking care what you have to say. It’ll all be lies anyway.”

“It won’t. You have my word I won’t lie to you. Not about that, anyway.”

Justina did not seem inclined to consider his word worth anything at all, and under the circumstances, he couldn’t entirely blame her.

“How was your trip?” he tried.

She shrugged. “All right, I guess.”

“Got any plans for while you’re here?”

“Avoiding weirdos,” said Justina, a category that was obviously meant to include him, and probably the whole Arqua clan, and possibly the entire population of Jackson’s Whole.

“Anything else? I see Julia brought her float-skis, which is good, because the snow’s excellent here. Do you ski?”

“No.”

“Would you like to learn?”

“I’m not very good at athletic things,” said Justina.

“No?” said By, and then, casually, “I wasn’t, either, when I was your age.”

His brother-in-law Amiri had joined them on the sun porch; By looked up, met his eyes, and hoped that Amiri got what he was trying to do. He tried to steer the conversation away to other topics, although it was uphill work. Justina did not admit to having an interest in any particular university, was not forthcoming about her friends, and seemed vague about how Dono, Olivia, and their little boys were doing, even though Ivan had said she’d been staying with them just before her departure. She did not miss her younger brothers, was not interested in sending any letters or vid-messages back home, and seemed to be finding her first off-planet trip rather a bore. She also had no pets, although she delivered this information in a dark, flat monotone that suggested there was a _story_ there. About the only question that elicited a “yes” answer was whether she would like more coffee.

“If you’ve got a few minutes after breakfast, By,” said Amiri, once he had returned with coffee, “I’d like to have a look at you. Just as a precaution.”

 _Very good, Amiri_. “I don’t think it’s necessary. I feel fine.”

“Still, you took a direct stunner hit. Can’t be too careful, with your condition.”

Byerly turned back to his breakfast with a shrug. “All right, if you insist.” _Yes! Thank you!_ Justina was not, he thought, a fool, or lacking in a sense of self-preservation; once the seed had been planted that something could be _done_ about her condition, she would find a way to learn more about the possibility.

* * *

“ _Did_ you need to have a look at me?” he asked Amiri, once they were alone in one of the guest bedrooms.

“Not unless you’re still feeling wobbly. You look fine to me. But I want to talk some more about Justina. She wouldn’t take anything for breakfast, just black coffee. Has she got an eating disorder? Because that would be quite serious for someone with her condition.”

“I don’t know. It’s been a good seven years since the last time I saw her. She doesn’t _look_ like she has one, particularly.”

“You can’t tell by _looking_ ,” said Amiri. “Find out. It’s important. And do everything you can to persuade her to let me examine her.”

“Do you absolutely need to? I mean, we _know_ , don’t we? And I’m perfectly happy to share my pills with her. I could sneak them into her coffee, if necessary.”

“That is absolutely _not_ an acceptable solution,” said Amiri. “Quite _apart_ from the ethical issues involved with medicating someone against their will, she’s a good deal lighter than you are, so the dosage would be off. And also, someone would have to keep doing it more or less indefinitely, so it’s not a practical solution either.”

“Yeah, that’s what my cousin Donna said when I suggested doing that to her brother Pierre.”

“And right she was. I’m glad _someone_ in your family has half a grain of sense.”

“Pierre’s dead,” said By.

“Which is exactly why we should be getting this girl proper medical attention, as soon as possible.”

“I told you, she just needs a little time. I’ll talk her round. I’m pretty sure there are ethical issues with _examining_ someone against their will too, aren’t there?”

Amiri admitted that this was, indeed, the case.

* * *

“My girlfriend happens to be an excellent cook,” By said, once he was back on the porch with Justina, “and she doesn’t often bestir herself for breakfast, so you’re missing a treat. But even if none of that were true, when someone goes to the trouble of preparing a meal for you, it’s simply _rude_ to ignore it. And if you’re going to go around calling yourself Lady Justina, it’s incumbent upon you to _act_ like a lady, which includes being courteous to your hosts. So go on, take a little even if you’re not very hungry, and try to look halfway grateful about it.”

“I’m not eating anything cooked by a mutie,” muttered Justina.

 _A mite hypocritical, are we?_ was his immediate reaction; he bit it back, reminding himself that Rish would have been more bemused than insulted. He wondered whether Justina was genuinely mutant-phobic or trying to get a rise out of him; a little of both, he thought.

“Rish isn’t a mutant,” he said. “She’s gengineered. But if you insist on upholding attitudes which have already gone out of fashion among the hill-folk, have some of the groats instead. Julia made them.” He stopped himself just short of adding _so I promise they’re not contaminated_. “You owe _her_ a bit of courtesy, too, since she’s gone to the trouble of being your escort.”

Justina slouched off to the kitchen and helped herself to a bowl of groats. Ivan, for some reason, seemed to find this whole exchange unaccountably hilarious.

“What’s so funny?” By demanded.

“You were – you were _channeling Mamere_. You sounded exactly like her.”

“I haven’t too many other models for how to deliver an etiquette lecture, I’m afraid. Julia and I were raised by the proverbial wolves.”

Ivan was still smirking. “You’ve been on the receiving end of m’mother’s version, I see.”

“She, ah, had a bit of trouble adapting to the fact that my persona required calculated flouting of social norms. Eventually she got used to it.”

In the kitchen, Justina sneaked one of the pancakes when no one was looking. _Hm-mm, so she'll back down even when she's got her heels dug in, but she wants to save face. I can work with that, too._

His other responsibilities, of course, raised some ... complications. He turned back to Ivan. “I think I might plausibly sleep until two or three in the afternoon today – having had a difficult night – but after that, I really _will_ have no good excuse for not sending a tightbeam reporting last night’s events. I _might_ be excused for failing to recognize its domestic import and sending it, instead, to Galactic Affairs, but at best, that will only delay matters a little before it lands on the Domestic Affairs desk. By the way, what’s Justina’s cover story? Your love-child with Donna, and somehow neither of you ever thought to mention her to me before?”

“Yes.”

“I think I had better pretend to believe it. It will provide some cover for _not_ coding the tightbeam as urgent. One’s brother-in-law coming to visit with his illegitimate child is purely a family affair; abduction of a minor from a prominent high-Vor family is, I fear, somewhat more serious.”

“I didn’t _abduct_ her!” Ivan protested. “She ran away from home and went to Dono because she wanted a university education and her uncle wouldn’t allow it, and Dono said he’d pay her tuition as long as she agreed to come out here with me. Which she did. Grudgingly, but nobody _forced_ her.”

“Of course nobody did, but I’m not sure the law will see it that way. The law, as dear Mr. Dickens says, is an ass, and makes no distinction between an infant and a young lady of sixteen or seventeen, in full possession of her wits and capable of making her own decisions. Plus, when people smuggle teenaged girls onto Jackson’s Whole, there is often an unfortunate presumption that they are doing it for immoral purposes.”

“I _told_ Dono that,” muttered Ivan. “And he kept insisting there wasn’t any _smuggling_ involved. I’m going to kill him.”

Byerly considered the point. “I’d say it’s smuggling. You brought her here on a passport that says she’s someone she isn’t, right? As far as the general concept goes, it’s not a great deal different from bringing in a crate of plasma rifles labeled ‘plumbing supplies’.”

“Oh God. I’m going to kill Dono _and_ you. Painfully.”

“I shouldn’t, if I were you. Never dispatch witnesses on your own side. _We_ can testify you were doing it for entirely moral purposes.”

* * *

After breakfast, Ruby turned up with Toby, who was three. (The Arquas were all rather evasive about where Toby had come from; they treated him as a sort of honorary nephew or grandchild, and claimed that he had been _orphaned when we took back our House from the Prestenes_ , but that didn’t really explain why they watched over him as warily as Bothari had watched over Miles.) Tej and Julia fussed over the new arrival. Justina ignored him. Ivan remembered that she had more or less ignored Dono’s kids, as well.

“I expect she’s had enough of looking after children,” Byerly remarked. “You might think that Richars was showing an uncharacteristically enlightened streak by having a girl first, but really, what he wanted was a babysitter for the others.”

Rish was instantly sympathetic. “I know a bit about _that_.”

“Oh no, you don’t,” said Ruby, “you have no _idea_.”

“Why don’t we take Toby to see the kittens?” Tej suggested. “They’re in my parents’ villa. Topaz took charge of them.”

“What kittens?” said By and Rish at the same time.

* * 

Topaz had dragged some baby gates out of storage and turned one of the bathrooms into a pen for the kittens. They were being played with and petted by various Jewels, who kept saying “They’re so _little_ ,” “Look, the claws go in and out, just like Contraband’s,” “If they’re not gengineered at all, how did those two get their stripes?” and other things of that nature.

“Oh,” said Rish, sounding a little distressed, “I was planning to surprise you.” She ran off in the direction of the Baronne’s genetics laboratory.

Toby squealed with delight, and Topaz introduced him to the calico kitten. “Gentle touches, like this, see?”

Rish returned with another, much smaller kitten, which she thrust into By’s hands. This one was obsidian-black and very fuzzy, promising to be long-haired.

“Wherever did you find him – he looks _just like_ Contraband – and I thought it was next to impossible to find a genetically unmodified cat on Jackson’s Whole ... but he’s too little to be away from his mother, surely?”

“He doesn’t have a mother,” said Rish. “I’ve been hand-rearing him.”

“Then where did he come fr – _oh_.”

“The instructions on the cloning kit said he probably won’t have exactly the same personality as Contraband,” said Rish. “Because of not having a mother. It said cloned pets are _affectionate with humans, but sometimes neurotic_ , and they often don’t get along with other animals.”

“Well,” said By, looking a little dazed by all of this, “I think there’s time to do something about that. All right, little fellow, let me introduce you to some friends who can teach you how to be a cat.” He held the black kitten up to the other side of the baby gates; the other kittens came up and sniffed at him.

“Careful,” said Rish, “don’t let them bully him.”

“I won’t.”

“Look at this one, Toby,” said Em. “You’re going to have to be verrry gentle with him because he’s so little, but he’s a clone just like you.”

Ivan nudged By. “Wait, what? Toby’s a clone? _Whose?_ ” The fair-skinned, light-haired little boy certainly wasn’t a clone of any of the Arquas, unless it was Erik, whom Ivan had never met. Had the Baron and Baronne decided to start all over with their unsatisfactory heir?

“Explain later,” said By out of the corner of his mouth.

* * *

Justina was playing with the white kitten, wholly absorbed, defenses down. Byerly watched her quietly for a few minutes, and then tried, “You like kittens?”

“Yeah,” said Justina, not looking up from the kitten in her lap. “I had one for a little while, when I was a kid, but –” She fell silent.

 _You’re still a kid_. “But your da ...?” Byerly prompted, guided by an instinct that told him this was the right time to prod her a little.

“He said he’d kill her the next time I misbehaved. And I never knew what was going to count as _misbehaving_ , because he seemed to make it up as he went along. So I took her out to an empty lot and left her there. I hated to do it – I could hear her crying as I went away – and I went back with some food for her the next day, but I never saw her again. My mother said I shouldn’t have done it because he didn’t really _mean_ he would kill her, it was just a figure of speech.”

“But you knew better.”

“I was pretty sure he would.” She looked directly at him for the first time, though her gaze was wary. “You believe me.”

“I do. And I think you did the right thing.” He was tempted to add _do you understand why what I did was also the right thing?_ But that was too heavy-handed, and Justina was obviously under no real illusions about her father’s character; she’d get there eventually.

Ivan was flushed, furious. “God! What kind of a coward goes around taking revenge on _baby animals?_ ”

“The Richars kind,” said Julia shortly. “Ask Dono to tell you about the puppy.”

“He’s heard,” said By.

Tej had pulled Justina into a rather awkward hug; he thought of telling her _no, really, don’t hug a Vorrutyer, we’ve got prickles_ , but Justina seemed to be tolerating it.

_She needs someone on her side, and I can make her trust me. All I need is enough time._


	5. Legal Complications

As far as Ivan could tell, By’s notion of bonding with his young relative consisted of teaching her how to play an Old Earth game called _poker_ , and then proceeding to win most of her pocket money. And a fair amount of _Ivan’s_ pocket money, too, even though Ivan’s pockets were a lot deeper.

“You couldn’t let her win every now and again?” Ivan suggested, when Justina left them for a moment to go to the lav. “I’m not sure fleecing the girl out of every last mark she’s got is the way to make her trust you.”

“She’d trust me even _less_ if she discovered I was letting her win. Besides, I think she’s about to start winning herself, if I’m not very much mistaken.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Everyone thinks poker is about bluffing and reading people. The sort of thing I’m good at. But, played properly, it’s really about mathematics and probability. And I think _Justina_ is rather good at that, and she’s starting to figure out some of the principles.”

Sure enough, by the end of another hour, Justina had started an alarmingly good winning streak. Ivan was fairly sure he actually caught her _smiling_ once.

* * *

“Huh,” said Ivan, when Justina finally got bored and drifted back to her game console. “I think she’s warming up to you.”

“Of course she is,” said By. “Getting people to trust me is my _job_ , remember? One teenaged girl, far from home, doesn’t present much of a challenge.”

“Oh.” Ivan hadn’t really thought about the fact that By was a trained professional manipulator, although now that he _was_ thinking about it, it was obviously relevant to the situation. “So what happens after she agrees to let Amiri examine her? You drop her like a hot potato?”

“Is that what you think of me? Really?”

“So that’s a no, then?”

“Of _course_ it’s a no. For Dono’s sake, first of all. But also, I think I kind of like her.”

“You’ve got the weirdest taste in _people_ ,” said Ivan.

“So do you.”

“No shit. I don’t know why I even _talk_ to you.”

Em poked her head into the room, with Rish right behind her. “We’re going for a swim, are you coming? Tej said Justina might be interested.”

“All right,” said Ivan. “But tell the others they’ve got to wear suits. Especially Jet.” (The Jewels tended to regard swimming as a clothing-optional activity; Tej’s theory was that they spent so much time in a state of near-nudity that they simply didn’t see going one step further as unusual.)

“Right,” said Rish, “no scaring the off-worlders, especially ones from puritanical planets.”

* * *

The Jacksonian idea of a bathing suit was _still_ a little skimpy by Barrayaran standards, but Justina must have become acclimated during her two weeks on the ship, because she didn’t seem overly scandalized. For his part, Ivan was enjoying the view; his many sisters-in-law were undeniably attractive, whatever you thought of their personalities.

Julia seemed to be enjoying the view, too. Hmm. Julia and Em were looking _friendly_.

Tej got a drink from the floating bar, took a sip, and immediately passed it along to Ivan, saying it had a little too much coconut for her tastes. (Tej usually did this with her first drink, because Ivan secretly enjoyed fruity girly drinks but wouldn’t be caught dead _asking_ for one.) Justina also ordered a drink, after glancing furtively around to see if anyone would stop her; when no one did, she stretched out on one of the lounge chairs and tried to look sophisticated. She was evidently unused to alcohol, or else very jump-lagged, because she fell asleep before she finished her drink.

Byerly, having finished what must have been a lengthy tightbeam to Galactic Affairs, joined Ivan at the edge of the bar.

“Hey,” said Ivan. “Is your sister also bisexual?”

“ _All_ the best people are bisexual.”

“ _I’m_ not,” said Ivan.

“ _Quod erat demonstrando_ ,” murmured By, unwisely, and then didn’t say anything for a while because Ivan had pushed him into the water.

He watched Julia and Em for a few minutes after Ivan finally let him up for air. “Mmm, I see what you mean. _Interesting_. I doubt either of them is after anything very serious or permanent. Em’s two years older than Rish, and _Rish_ has had about as many loyalty treatments as you can have and still form a serious pair-bond with someone else. And Julia settled down way too young ... I don’t think she really wants to do that again, at least not right away. A nice, temporary holiday fling might be just the thing for them both.”

“That’s good. Because, I mean, if they _all_ start pairing off with high-Vor...”

“... It makes it a lot harder for House Cordonah to pretend it isn’t a proxy of the Imperium. _So_ glad you’re paying attention.”

“Yeah. Especially, Shiv and Udine are going to find it harder to pretend to _themselves_.”

Byerly gave him a look that might actually have been _impressed_. Ivan briefly savored the moment, and then started to regret it. If you let on to an Imp-weasel that you were _good_ at noticing nuances of that sort, sooner or later you ended up _recruited_.

“So whose clone _is_ Toby?” Ivan asked, by way of distraction. Toby was running gleefully through the splash-pool, attended by Topaz and Pearl.

“Baron Prestene’s,” said By, for all the world as if raising your arch-enemy’s clone were a perfectly normal thing to do.

“ _What?_ You’re joking.” But no, he wasn’t; Ivan could see that at a glance. “What’s his ... um ... status in House Cordonah?”

“I would say,” said By, after a moment of reflection, “that his status falls somewhere in the nebulous area between _adopted grandchild_ and _live bait_.”

Ivan stared at him. “That’s like saying something is halfway between ... between _hedgehog and caviar_. It doesn’t make sense. You can’t be _between_ things that don’t even belong in the same _category_ as each other.”

“Did you know that hedgehog is considered a delicacy on Marilac? Rish found a recipe she wants to try, but she can’t find any company willing to ship vat-grown hedgehog off-planet at a reasonable price.”

“Do you even know how to stick to a _point?_ ”

“Well, that kind of _was_ my point. Things that don’t seem to belong in the same category in one culture can go perfectly well together in another.”

“Well,” said Ivan, taking refuge in the one thing that seemed certain and immutable, “they shouldn’t be using a three-year-old as bait. That’s just _wrong_.”

“I agree,” said By, “but they didn’t consult me about it, and it’s surely better than harvesting a twelve-year-old for a full-body transplant, which is what Baron Prestene would have done with him.”

“This whole planet is _insane_.”

“It is,” said By, amicably, leaning back in his lounge chair and gazing out over the glassed-in complex of pools, waterslides, fountains, and islands with potted palm trees, encircled by a lazy river, “but you have to admit being related to the Baron has a certain appeal.”

* * *

“Like him?” said Rish. Everyone else had gone to bed, and she was showing By how to feed Contraband’s small clone.

“Of course, said By.

“Were you actually surprised?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“ _How?_ ”

That was an excellent question, considering his profession. “Well, it was obvious – just from your demeanor – that whatever you were up to, it wasn’t particularly guilt-inducing. I mean, you’re _good_ , but you’re not _professional-level_ good; you have some pretty obvious tells when you’re hiding something that matters enough to cause you stress. So I thought I ought to let you have a few secrets. Other people’s girlfriends do.”

“In other words,” said Rish, looking amused at this critique of her covert ops abilities, “I do believe you’ve started to trust me. What are you going to call him?”

“Carbon,” said By, and then had to explain all about Time of Isolation duplicating processes. Rish didn’t look as though she believed him.

Carbon finished his bottle of kitten-milk and curled up in the crook of By’s arm, purring contentedly.

“He can’t sleep with us,” said Rish. She had taken several months to give up this particular battle with Contraband, who had been _accustomed_ to sleeping with By long before there was any Rish in the picture.

“Why not?”

“He’s too little. What if one of us rolls over and crushes him? Besides, he’s only just learning to use the litterbox.”

Reluctantly, By returned Carbon to his box. The kitten stood on shaky legs, staring up at him. “You don’t think he’ll get cold?”

“He’s got a heating pad in there. And he has lots of fur.”

“Well, he’s _supposed_ to have a mother and brothers and sisters ... I think we ought to keep one of the others, too. At least one. Ivan went to the trouble of bringing them all this way.”

Rish yielded to the inevitable, nipped over to her parents’ villa, and returned with the grey tabby, who began grooming Carbon in a very older-siblingish sort of way.

“So, um," said By, "what do your parents think about the Justina situation? Have they ... said anything?”

“Not particularly. What about her?”

“Well, among other things – she might be staying here for a while. What do _you_ think about that, for that matter?”

“Justina’s your _family_ ,” said Rish, “so of course she ought to stay here as long as she needs to, and I am very sure the Baron and Baronne will agree with me once I explain that to them.”

“My family wasn’t really part of the Deal your parents signed on for,” pointed out By. “In fact, I believe you were all under the impression that I was unencumbered by familial obligations of any sort. _I_ was certainly under that impression myself.”

“Well, yes,” said Rish, watching the kittens settle next to each other, “but, to be honest, I don’t think _any_ of us really thought that was one of your better qualities.”

* * *

It was late on the following morning when one of the Arqua family retainers approached Byerly with a data-disk. “Tightbeam for you. It’s from Anderson.”

_Arriving with orders from Very High Up. If your cousin Justina is there on Jackson’s Whole, don’t let her leave until I get there. (That’s part of the orders.) Don’t know what’s going on but hope you will enlighten me??? In other words, what are you doing By???!!!!!!!!!?  
\- A._

Alain didn’t always punctuate _accurately_ , but he punctuated with wonderful expression.

“Oh ... _damn_ ,” said By aloud, after he checked the time-stamp on the message, which had evidently been delayed in transmission. “If he’s on one of the new military carriers, he could be here any time.”

“Who’s Anderson,” Ivan asked, “and why don’t you want him?”

“It isn’t that I don’t _want_ him. He’s one of my best friends. However, he’s _also_ my courier, and it sounds like he’s been sent to fetch Justina. I was hoping we had a little more time.”

“You ought to have. There’s not enough time for your message to have reached home, let alone for anyone to have sent a reply.”

“Yes. So they must have known about it all along. Oh, damn, damn, _damn_. _Also_ , I need to tell our in-laws to put Alain on the list of allowed visitors. Star’s stun-them-all-first-and-ask-questions-later attitude is _not_ suitable for my work colleagues.”

Ivan snorted. “Yeah, ImpSec tends to be _very_ not amused by that sort of thing.”

* * *

“Hey, Justina,” said By after lunch, at which Justina had acted more or less like a normal person. She seemed to have entirely forgotten to be prejudiced against Rish, or at least against Rish’s cooking.

“Hey yourself,” said Justina, in a not-entirely-unfriendly manner.

His instincts were telling him this was _not_ really the right moment to push the medical issue – he would have much preferred waiting until Justina came to _him_ with her questions – but Amiri kept nagging him, and Alain’s tightbeam had created a new sense of urgency. “Have you thought about starting on some of the things you’ll need to be ready for university?”

“Such as?” asked Justina, in a mildly curious tone that suggested she didn’t have any idea what one had to do to get ready for university. Unfortunately, neither did he.

“Oh – entrance exams, for one thing. You could arrange to take them here.” (That was bound to be true, since the Baron and Baronne could arrange _anything_ , and they’d sent three of their children off to galactic universities, so they would surely know what was required. It occurred to him, as he cast about for other university entrance requirements that he might mention by way of camouflage, that he probably should have _asked_ Amiri about the process first.) “Actually ... given that you might not _exactly_ have parental permission in the most _conventional_ sense of the term, it might make sense to get a few other things done here, where nobody’s going to ask for it.”

“Like ...?”

“Immunizations and that sort of thing. You’re going to need some new ones if you’re looking at galactic universities, and any way they’ll want to know that yours are up to date. Actually,” he added casually, as though it were an afterthought, “they’ll likely want records of a full medical exam. Amiri can take care of that. Totally free, all in the family.”

Rish had brought home some giant Jacksonian mollusks one time; they could take your hand off if you weren’t careful. Abruptly, Justina _shut up_ exactly like _that_.

“He’s discreet, too,” added By, “in case you should happen to want discretion.”

Justina glared at him. “You know,” she said slowly, “I was almost starting to _like_ you. I don’t know why. You’re doing _exactly_ the same thing to me you did to my da.”

“Justina, that isn’t fair, I haven’t the least intention of betraying you, I just –”

But Justina had already gathered up her game console, stalked off to the guest room, and slammed the door shut behind her.

* * *

“She kind of has a point,” said Ivan afterward. “You _were_ bullshitting her. Why didn’t you just have a straight-up, honest conversation with her instead of making up a lot of nonsense about university requirements?”

“I don’t even know,” By admitted wearily. “Spy instincts. _Stupid_ spy instincts.”

“What happens now?”

“I don’t know. I don’t have any choice but to back off for a while, I think. More patience. More poker, if we’ve got time for it. I think I’ve gotten her addicted enough that she’ll put up with my company long enough for a game, and if she’ll do that, I can get her to talk to me again.”

“Count me out. I’m not _good_ at poker. Maybe Julia would like to play.”

“If it’s any comfort, when Alain gets here, he ought to win back some of the money you lost to Justina. _I_ won everyone’s pocket money for the first week or so of ImpSec training, and then Alain turned out to be much better at the math than any of the rest of us were, and ended up winning all of it back.”

“You played for money with _proles?_ ”

“One of the delightful things about you, Ivan, is that you’re very easily shocked, but it’s hardly ever by the same things that shock everybody else. Yes, why not? I was as impecunious as the rest of them, or nearly so, anyway.”

* * *

Justina was still sulking in her room when Alain arrived. Ivan eyed him curiously as he pulled By into a quick hug and handed him an envelope. “I’m supposed to give you this. I don’t know what’s in it, of course, but ... probably not good, I’m afraid.”

Ivan recognized Gregor’s own hand and seal on the envelope. Almost _certainly_ not good, he thought.

“Also,” said Alain, as By broke the seal, “I’m supposed to tell you that if you’re thinking of doing anything stupid, don’t do it. That was an exact quote. From General Allegre.”

Byerly looked up and blinked innocently. “If, hypothetically, I were thinking of doing anything, it would be because I _didn’t_ regard it as a stupid thing to do. Else I shouldn’t be thinking of doing it. So it seems to me that General Allegre has a _logic_ problem.”

“General Allegre has a _knowing-you-too-well_ problem,” said Alain. “You’ve done loads of things that you knew darn well were stupid. Anyway, I hope you’re going to read that letter, ‘cos I’m dying of curiosity.”

“Well, this is ... interesting,” said By when he had finished reading. “I am Requested and Required – in capital letters – to await the arrival of the representatives designated by the Emperor and currently en route to Jackson’s Whole, and in the meantime, not to relinquish Justina Vorrutyer or Rutyer to any person other than the said representatives. This letter says absolutely _nothing_ about who these representatives might be, save that they will bear letters identifying them.” He looked at Alain. “You don’t happen to have a guess, by any chance?”

“Nope,” said Alain. “I don’t think they would have sent _me_ if they thought I would. I’m not exactly part of the right social scene to be able to figure that kind of thing out, y’know.” 

Indeed, Alain’s accent was about as broadly _prole_ as it could get; not at all what Ivan would have expected from a good friend of By’s, but it was always hard to figure out exactly who By _was_ when he wasn’t playing the decadent aristocrat.

“‘Justina Vorrutyer or Rutyer’?” Alain added thoughtfully. “ _That’s_ a weird way of putting it.”

“Well, of course, it _would_ be ‘Rutyer’, technically,” said By, “if she’s a bastard. Unless you thought to get her legitimated, Ivan? No, you wouldn’t have, it would mean petitioning your District Count –” (Ivan shuddered at the thought of having to explain the Justina Situation to Count Falco, who took a notoriously dim view of false oaths) “– and I don’t suppose you would have had time before you left. So technically, she’s not Vor at all any more. I don’t think I’m going to explain that to her. People don’t really fuss too much about what girls call themselves, and she seems to have had a hard _enough_ time coming to terms with the fact that her father isn’t the Count.”

“I’m not sure I really _get_ what’s going on here,” said Alain, “but the _or_ part kinda suggests the Emperor is reserving judgment about _what_ her name is. Is that important?”

“Yes,” said By. “It’s really important. It means he’s at least open to the possibility of keeping up the social fiction that Justina is Ivan’s and Dono’s daughter. But – but why is he getting _personally involved?_ ”

“If your cousin the Count is one side of this,” said Alain slowly, “and whoever’s on the other side is another Count” – By shook his head – “or appealed to his District Count” – By nodded – “then he’d sorta have to get involved, wouldn’t he? Because then it’s at the level of a dispute between Counts.”

“I think you’re right. Yves must have run off and squealed to his District Count. More or less immediately after Justina left the planet, to judge by the timing.”

“Great,” said Ivan. “What are we going to do?”

“Lawyer up, for a start. Where’s Pidge?”

“Didn’t you tell me that Pidge tried to poison you once?” said Ivan.

“Mmm, yes, thank you for reminding me. She _owes_ me a bit of pro bono work.”

“That wasn’t quite what I –”

“Oh, stop _worrying_ , Ivan. It was more than two years ago, and it was all due to a misunderstanding. We’re good friends now ... _most_ of the time, anyway.”

Alain caught Ivan’s eye and snorted.

* * *

“Have you got a moment, Ivan?” said Pidge half an hour later, having evidently been briefed by Byerly. “I’ve just got a couple of quick questions. First, did you get Justina officially declared as an acknowledged bastard before you left Barrayar? Oath taken in front of a male, Vor-caste witness and all that?”

“Yeah,” said Ivan, feeling that it had all been a _very big mistake_.

“Good. But not airtight. The trouble is, there are two different general categories of oath in Barrayaran law, oaths which _attest_ to facts and oaths which _create_ facts, and it’s not at all clear which category an acknowledged-bastard oath would fall into in this day and age.”

“Um,” said By, who looked as flummoxed as Ivan felt. “Could you ... explain that a little more?”

“Sure. Let’s say, for instance, that I take an oath in a Barrayaran court of law and I swear that I saw you trying to steal my grandmother’s brooch –”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Pidge, it wasn’t a brooch, it was a gene-bank, and the data was stolen from Barrayarans in the first place –”

“It’s a _hypothetical_ brooch, and I haven’t even gotten to the end of the hypothetical yet. Now, let’s say you’re able to produce witnesses and prove beyond a doubt that you were somewhere else at the time. So you go free, and I might go to prison for perjury. Courtroom testimony, in other words, is an example of an oath that _attests_ to facts. If the facts turn out to be false, the oath is false and has no validity in law.”

“And the oath that _creates_ facts?”

“An example of that would be – oh, say, if you made a will, using the traditional Barrayaran inheritance oath, and left all of your assets to House Cordonah.”

“I’m not sure I like _any_ of these hypotheticals.”

“Don’t worry, By,” said Pidge cheerfully, “even if we brainwashed you into making that will, you haven’t got enough assets to be worth murdering. Anyway, that’s an oath that _creates_ facts. We weren’t your heirs before you took the oath, but we are now. Actually, a lot of your common oaths work that way. Marriage, swearing as an armsman, and so on. And the crucial point is, there’s no way for an oath of that type to be false. The oath creates its own reality.”

“Someone accused me of swearing a false marriage oath once,” said Ivan.

“Well, if _I’d_ been there, I’d have pointed out there’s no such thing.” (Ivan felt profoundly grateful that Pidge _hadn’t_ been there.) “ _Anyway_ , historically speaking, the acknowledged-bastard oath has been regarded as an oath of the second type. If you swear you are the father of a child, then the oath _makes_ you the father. There’s one case where the putative father took the oath and then tried to retract it after he discovered that his mistress had been unfaithful. His District Count ruled that he couldn’t do that, and the precedent was upheld upon appeal.”

“That sounds very promising,” said By.

“Yes. But the problem is, all of the legal precedents date from the Time of Isolation, when the presumption was that there _was_ no way to ascertain a child’s paternity independently from the oath. Arguably, the availability of DNA testing changes the status of the acknowledged-bastard oath from one that creates facts to one that merely _attests_ to facts. And if that’s the case, Ivan’s potentially in quite a bit of trouble, legally speaking.”

“I have reason to believe,” said By, “that Justina and – and anybody else who might claim to be Justina’s parent would not agree to DNA testing.”

“Yes. But if it’s merely an oath that attests to facts, it’s falsifiable in other ways. For example, Justina was presumably a body-birth, which means her _mother’s_ identity isn’t in doubt. And nobody, as far as I can tell, is claiming that Ivan has ever had sex with Justina’s mother.”

“Ivan’s had sex with lots of people,” Byerly tried. “I’m sure he doesn’t remember all of them.”

“Yes, I do!” protested Ivan. “And I have Definitely. Never. Slept. With. Dorcas. Vorrutyer.”

“You don’t think you could _try_ being a little forgetful about that, just for a while?”

Ivan glared at By. “No, I couldn’t!”

“It wouldn’t do Justina any good, anyway,” said Pidge. “If she were Ivan’s child with Dorcas, Ivan might wriggle out of a perjury charge, but Dorcas would still have custody as the mother of a daughter. Your best hope, assuming you want to keep her –” (Pidge looked as if she had some doubts about the sanity of anyone who wanted to keep Justina) “– is to argue that this has _always_ been considered the type of oath that _creates_ its own facts, and there’s no precedent for regarding it otherwise.”

“Argue ... to whom, exactly?” asked Ivan.

“Mmm, yes, that was the other question I was going to ask you. Do you know how long Justina was staying with Count Dono Vorrutyer before she left Barrayar?”

“A couple of weeks.”

“I was afraid of that. And she wasn’t a resident of his District before that?”

“Certainly not,” said By. “I don’t know where she _was_ living, but there’s no way that Yves would ever have taken oath to Dono. I expect he picked the most reactionary liege-lord he could find.”

“Ivan, do you know?”

Ivan shook his head.

“Justina is a minor,” said Pidge, “which means she can’t legally take oath to your cousin or move to his District on her own initiative. _Her_ District Count would normally be the authority in all custody disputes involving her, but when the other party in the dispute is another Count, it takes things up another level. So – you’re looking at either the full Council of Counts circus, or arbitration by a person or persons representing the Emperor. I would _strongly_ recommend you choose arbitration, in the event that you’re offered a choice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Carbon's real-life counterpart, [cc](http://www.nbcnews.com/id/3076908/ns/health-cloning/t/year-later-cloned-cat-no-copycat/#.V_MUcOArLIU), is ironically _not_ a carbon copy of her progenitor.


	6. Family Complications

“The guards have detained some people at the gates,” announced Star. “They say they’re Justina’s mother and uncle. Do we let them in?”

Byerly would have liked nothing better than to say _No, they’re impostors, stun them and throw them in one of the hostage cells_ , but for all he knew, they might be the Emperor’s representatives. “Yes. I suppose you’d better. Let me talk to them as soon as they get here.”

Fifteen minutes later, a couple of the House Cordonah guards ushered in Yves Vorrutyer and his sister-in-law, Dorcas. Yves looked older, heavier, and more florid than By remembered, but no less the bully. Dorcas looked harried and exhausted – as always – but also distinctly hostile. Dorcas, he had to admit, had a right to be hostile toward him.

There was no sign of Yves’s wife, nor of any of the other children; they must all have been left on Barrayar.

“Where’s Justina?” Yves demanded.

“Somewhere about,” said By vaguely.

“I’ve come to collect her,” said Yves.

As a male relative of Justina’s father, Yves had no legal claim to her whatsoever, so Byerly elected to address Dorcas instead, pretending that she had been the one who had spoken. “That would be a shame, don’t you think? She seems to be enjoying her holiday here immensely.”

“She isn’t on holiday,” said Yves, “she’s a _runaway_ , and she needs to come home. I’ve got a signed and sealed letter from Count Vormirov ordering you to return her.”

“Ah,” said By, concealing his relief that Yves had invoked no higher authority, “I’m afraid that might prove ... problematic. You see –” he removed the letter Alain had delivered from his pocket with a flourish – “ _I’ve_ got one from Count Vorbarra.”

He attempted to hand the Emperor’s letter to Dorcas, but Yves intercepted it. He blanched slightly as he read it.

Dorcas spoke up for the first time. “This is absurd. I am her _mother_.”

“Unless you’re the Emperor’s designated representative, I’m afraid she’ll have to stay here for the present.”

“How _dare_ you keep me from my daughter, you – you _pervert!_ ”

Byerly flinched inwardly: _that_ accusation still hurt, even after all these years. That was the whole damn problem with family; nobody else was ever half so good at hitting you on the bruised spots. “I understand there is some question about Justina's parentage, but in any case you’re not being kept from her. I’m sure she’ll be delighted to see you.” He was, in fact, sure of nothing of the sort. As long as he was lying through his teeth anyway, he added, “No one’s got the least objection to _your_ staying here, as well. We can all just ... stay put for a while. It should be very pleasant. Proper family reunion, and all that.” (Of course, the Vorrutyers didn’t really _do_ family reunions, as any such event would probably end in homicide; but as long as there was a high probability that Yves would end up as the corpse, By was willing to take his chances.)

“This is _abduction_ ,” said Yves.

Byerly blinked innocently. “I thought you said a moment ago that she was a runaway. Which is it?” While Yves was still fumbling for an answer, he added, “In any case, _I’ve_ been on Jackson’s Whole for the past two and a half years, so unless your contention is that I somehow abducted her by remote grav-beam, I must disclaim any personal responsibility.” Feeling that the interview was unlikely to go anywhere else very useful, he lifted his chin and caught the eye of the nearest guard. “The guards will show you to your rooms; I’m afraid they will have to be in the Baron’s villa, since we’re a bit full up here at the moment, but you’re welcome to join us for dinner at seven. Please do let the Baron and Baronne’s servants know if there’s anything they can do to make your stay more comfortable.”

* * *

Dinner turned out to be kelp broth and thinly sliced raw fish for a starter, followed by grilled Jacksonian sea-snake with fire sauce. As Rish had hosted many Barrayaran agents over the last two years, and had acquired a good sense of which foods were likely to be acceptable to Barrayaran tastes and which were thoroughly alien, Byerly suspected her of deliberate malice. He _heartily_ approved of the menu, and not just because he’d grown fond of sea-snake. (Ivan and Alain were both perfectly happy eating whatever was put in front of them, and Em had taken Julia off to a fundraiser for the Jackson’s Whole Performing Arts Center, so there was no need to worry about starving their other off–planet guests – except, of course, for Justina.)

To his surprise, Justina actually _ate_ her sea-snake. Without the peppery and slightly acrid dipping sauce, which was an acquired taste, but with apparent relish. Justina was ordinarily very good at refusing to eat when she was annoyed with people, and she’d been particularly annoyed with her hosts last time he looked – but, on the other hand, there was Yves at the other end of the table, grumbling slightly-too-audibly about _nasty galactic food_ , while Dorcas was sitting very stiffly and looking at her portion of snake as if she were afraid it would come back to life and bite her. (Which it wouldn’t, as it had never been alive in the first place. Rish had helpfully informed everyone that it was vat-snake and she’d even used synthetic venom in the sauce, but this revelation had not done much to improve Yves’s and Dorcas’s appetites.)

It looked very much as if Justina were _more_ annoyed with her mother and uncle than she was with anyone else at the table, which might be useful. She wasn’t talking to them very much, rousing herself only to snark a bit when Yves decided to berate her for causing his son to fail an algebra exam; evidently, Justina’s departure had deprived him of the unpaid tutoring services she had been providing. As a first topic of conversation when your niece had just run away to Jackson’s Whole, this struck By as an example of _spectacularly_ misplaced priorities.

Rish did not offer Yves and Dorcas dessert, and hinted that they must be _very_ tired after their journey. They were obviously just as eager as she was to bring an end to the visit, and hurried back to their rooms at the villa. Justina also seemed all too happy to flee back to her room, but Rish said “Wait,” ducked into the kitchen, and handed her a generous slice of hazelnut torte to take with her.

“Huh,” said Ivan. “I think _you’re_ starting to like her, too.”

Rish shrugged, as if unwilling to commit herself that far. “Well, let’s just say I feel a bit sorry for her, if those are the people who raised her. I don’t know how much of their reactions you could pick up, but they _really_ don’t like that I exist. In Dorcas’s case, it’s partly that she’s afraid of me, but Yves is just plain outraged that I’m allowed to be _blue_.”

“Oh,” said By, realizing that this all had to be very hard on Rish. “I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have invited them at all, except I did want them to see Justina face to face at least once, lest they accuse us of murdering her.”

Rish snorted. “Are you really under the impression that I care what those _houseless people_ think of me?”

“Houseless people?” He knew what that meant in a Jacksonian context, but he wasn’t quite sure how it translated to Yves and Dorcas.

“They’re feuding with your cousin the Count, aren’t they?”

“Ye-es...”

“Well, then,” said Rish, as if it were perfectly obvious that this made Yves and Dorcas beneath contempt.

* * *

Half an hour later, when the remaining guests had been helped to hazelnut torte and coffee and had settled in for a pleasant evening in the living room, By got an unexpected wristcom call from Star. “Another one of your cousins tightbeamed from the orbital station to say he’s going to be here tomorrow. Do we admit him?”

“Oh, no, don’t tell me _Gerard’s_ decided to get in on things!”

“No, that wasn’t the name. It was Dono.”

“Thank God,” said By, who was looking forward to giving Dono a piece of his mind. And having a good visit with Dono, of course. But definitely giving him a piece of his mind _first_. “Yes. Definitely admit him.”

“Just as a matter of interest,” Star asked, “how many cousins do you _have?_ ”

“Depends. There are a lot of different degrees of cousinship, how close are we counting?”

“Close enough to show up _here_. Because I don’t think we can afford to run a hotel for your relatives.”

“Oh, I’m quite sure you _can_. You just don’t _want_ to. But fear not, I would be very surprised if any more of them turn up,” said By. He hoped against hope that this was actually true.

* * *

Dono and Olivia arrived on the following day, accompanied by baby Pierre in his stroller, CeeCee trailing along beside them clutching his stuffed molecule, and Max, Dono’s gigantic and undisciplined dog, who bounded forward to greet By. Armsman Szabo was following along behind with their luggage.

“Are you the emperor’s designated representatives?” By asked hopefully.

“Would we know if we were?” asked Olivia.

“You’d have letters – _Down_ , Max! And no slobbering, I’m fond of that shirt!”

“Then ... no. We don’t have letters.”

“Damn. I can’t release Justina into your custody, then.”

“I don’t think Olivia and I particularly _want_ custody of her,” said Dono, looking rather alarmed at the prospect. “We want her to be seen by a competent medical professional – which I _hope_ has already happened – and we want her to go to the university of her choice. I’m prepared to pay for both of those things.”

Byerly sighed. “The medical-professional part has proven to be ... challenging. Given unlimited time, I think I could talk her round. But we don’t have unlimited time, and thus far, she’s been ... stubborn. Also, Yves and Dorcas have already turned up to collect her.”

“I thought they would,” said Dono, “that’s why we’re here, because Yves suddenly vanished and I found out he’d bribed one of the officials at the shuttleport to release their passenger manifests, so I reckoned he was following Ivan. So we packed up the kids and took the next shuttle out. You haven’t let them _leave_ with Justina, have you?”

“I haven’t. In any case, I _can’t_. The _Emperor’s_ decided to get into the game. I take it he’s seen that you and Ivan claimed to be her parents on her passport application, and he also knows perfectly well that it’s a lie.”

Dono grinned. “Call it a useful legal fiction. I don’t think it’s technically a _lie_ , not with the oath taken all right and proper.”

“Mmm. I’ve consulted a lawyer. It looks like there might actually be some doubt –”

They had to interrupt the conversation at this point to chase after Max, who had gone tearing up the stairs.

“Oh, no,” cried Rish, “don’t let him hurt the kittens!”

Max, however, clearly had _no_ intention of hurting the kittens. As soon as he caught his first sniff of Carbon, he skidded to a halt, turned tail and ran into the bathroom, and attempted to hide behind the toilet, a maneuver at which he failed miserably.

“What’s the matter with him?” Ivan asked By, who was cracking up laughing.

“He ... ah ... made the mistake of tangling with Contraband. Once. Apparently this little one smells exactly the same.”

“So,” said Dono, “you were saying about your lawyer...”

* * *

Dono’s first impression of Pidge, during the legal briefing that followed, was _cool and competent_. Perhaps a little _too_ cool. He wished he’d taken Natalia, his own trusted attorney, along, but she hadn’t been able to leave her practice on Barrayar.

“It would appear to me,” Pidge concluded, “that unless Count Vormirov can be persuaded into withdrawing his backing of Yves...” – Dono, who was _very_ familiar with Count Vormirov, snorted – “this falls into the category of an _intractable dispute between Counts_. This would also seem to be the conclusion that your Emperor has drawn. As such, it falls directly under his jurisdiction.”

“Wait,” said Ivan. “Richars lived in Vorrutyer’s District while Pierre was alive, didn’t he? And I guess he was oath-sworn to Pierre and all that?”

“Mmm, yes,” said Dono. “What of it?”

“Well – he couldn’t very well have changed his legal residence or taken oath to a different Count, since prisoners aren’t allowed to do either of those things. So technically, _Richars_ is still a Vorrutyer’s District resident, and his wife and children still ought to be under your authority as _their_ District Count, right? Couldn’t you just hold a court session right _here_ and declare yourself Justina’s guardian? I mean, you’d still have to stay here with her until Gregor’s representatives turn up, but once they get here they’d pretty much have to agree that she’s under your jurisdiction, and there’s no real case for Count Vormirov having any authority over her.”

Dono and Olivia looked at one another uncomfortably. “Well, actually –” said Dono.

Pidge cut in. “Last year’s Emancipation of Married Women Act stipulates that women who do not reside with their husband do not automatically fall under the authority of their husband’s District Count, but have the same right to vote with their feet as any other citizen. As a general rule, residence of six months in another district is sufficient to establish de facto legal domicile in that district. But, of course,” Pidge added with a touch of malice, “Count Dono knows this already, having been the author and sponsor of the Emancipation of Married Women Act.”

“You know,” said By, “I always _did_ say it was a bad idea to start dismantling the patriarchy before you had a chance to _benefit_ from it properly.”

“ _You_ try explaining that to a woman who desperately wants a divorce when her husband contests it and his District Count won’t give her one,” said Dono. “How long should I tell her to wait, exactly?”

“Fair point.”

“And frankly, even if I _had_ the legal authority to unilaterally declare myself Justina’s guardian, I don’t care for the idea. Because it sets a precedent, and the next Count who decides to start declaring himself the guardian of other people’s children might have quite a different set of motives.” Dono thought it over. “Damned if I’m not glad it’s out of my hands, after all.”

“I take it, then, that you agree with me that there isn’t much you _can_ do at the moment?” said Pidge.

“Not _much_. But let me have a word with Dorcas. In private.”

“Girl talk?” asked By.

“Maybe. Or head-of-family-to-recalcitrant-relative. I’ll wing it once I have a better read on her.”

“Ah. Getting comfortable with the patriarchy thing, after all?”

Dono made a very un-Countly face at him. “ _Any_ approach that works.”

* * *

“I am not going to mince words,” said Dono. “Justina” – he carefully avoided saying _your daughter_ – “has a serious, but extremely treatable, medical condition. I think you know that.” (It was clear from the expression on Dorcas’s face that she _did_ know.) “What were you _thinking_ , making her go without treatment?”

Dorcas looked mutinous, but she evidently had an ingrained deference to Counts, because her reply was civil. “She won’t have to wait forever. But she needs to be decently married _first_ , because she won’t be able to marry afterwards if it were known.”

“Is that the sum total of your hopes for her? Marriage? Marriage under _false pretenses?_ ” Dono, who had been married off at eighteen – much against either party’s will – tried, not altogether successfully, to keep the edge out of his voice.

“Who would marry a girl who has a genetic defect?” said Dorcas. “It wouldn’t be so bad if it were one of the boys. At least a boy has his own career, even if he can’t marry.”

“Justina can have her own career, too,” said Dono. “I gather that’s what she _wants_.”

“No daughter of mine is going out to work like a _prole_ ,” said Dorcas. “It’s bad enough that you took everything else from my children.”

“Believe me, Dorcas, that is not what I set out to do.”

“But it’s what you _did_ ,” said Dorcas bleakly. “I did everything _right_. I was a good wife. A good mother. And you – you and your degenerate cousin broke every single rule there was, and you got _rewarded_ for it. You walked off with everything that was my husband’s by right, and then you put him in prison and left me with a whole pack of children to raise any way I could.”

It didn't seem the right moment to point out that it would have been impossible to put Richars in prison without Richars's active collaboration. “I would have helped you,” said Dono, “if you had ever come to me. I never had any quarrel with _you_.”

A spark of real fight had appeared in Dorcas’s eyes. “So what if you didn’t have a quarrel with me? You ruined my life anyway, without a second thought. Mine, and the children’s. There is no way I would _ever_ come crawling on my knees to you.”

Dono couldn’t help flinching, but tried to conceal it. “Nevertheless, Justina _did_ come to me. And my offer to help applies to her, as well.”

“Just what kind of _help_ do you think you can give her?”

“Medical treatment, for a start. Discreet and off-world, even.”

Dorcas snorted. “On Jackson’s Whole? Where they sell your medical records to the highest bidder?”

“Dr. Arqua is a naturalized citizen of Escobar, and he’s trustworthy,” said Dono, although he really only had By’s word for it, and By did not count, from Dorcas’s perspective, as a _reliable source_. “Also, I’m prepared to pay for Justina’s education at the university of her choice. Plus living expenses while she’s getting her degree.”

“She isn’t taking your charity,” said Dorcas, “and she doesn’t need a university education.”

“Why not?” said Dono, and when Dorcas didn’t answer, “Suppose she does make a proper Vor marriage, as you’re expecting. And suppose she finds – after ten or twelve years, or maybe much sooner – that her husband is not who she thought he was. Perhaps that means he can’t support her any more ... perhaps it also means he’s not someone she can love or respect. What then? A life of dependence on her husband’s relatives? Is that the future you want for her?”

It was always a gamble, confronting defenders of the old system with the ways it had stunted and blighted _their_ lives. Sometimes it paid off. The rest of the time, they dug in – mostly, Dono suspected, because if old-high-Vor values had caused you to throw away your hopes and dreams, you _had_ to pretend to yourself forever afterward that it had been a worthwhile bargain.

“Yves has been very good to us,” said Dorcas frostily. “I have no reason to complain. And I will thank you _not_ to make insinuations about my marriage, which you know nothing about.”

"Very well. My offer for Justina’s education is on the table. It will still be there after she comes of age, and you won’t have any say over what she does then. In the meantime – _I_ do not have any intention of shutting my door to Justina if she comes to me of her own free will, as she did a few weeks ago. You can try to drag her away if you like, but it will be ugly. And my attorney informs me that if there is a trial to determine which of us is legally Justina’s parent, I will probably win.” (This was something of a bluff; the most Natalia had been willing to say was “I don’t know whether you’d win, but the Council of Counts know you, and they don’t know her.” Which might be a mixed blessing, given that not everyone who knew Dono necessarily _liked_ him.)

“I don’t believe you would win,” said Dorcas, “and I won’t have her visiting you. _You_ are not a fit person to have charge of a young girl.”

“Why ever not?” asked Dono. “I’m quite the respectable family man, these days. I've got two children of my own. And a wife who can do any chaperoning that needs to be done.”

“You know perfectly well why not,” said Dorcas.

“I don’t believe I do,” said Dono, because if people were going to be offensive, he liked to force them into doing so _openly_. “Enlighten me?”

“Because you are neither a proper man nor a proper woman, and what you have is not a real marriage. That’s why.”

“Well – if that is your only objection to me, how about Lord and Lady Vorpatril? Will they do?”

“Certainly not,” said Dorcas. “I know what _his_ reputation was before he married – and _she_ is _Jacksonian_. Besides, her parents may _call_ themselves the Baron and Baronne, but I don’t believe they are at all respectable.”

This was, Dono noted, the first opinion Dorcas had expressed all day with which he actually agreed.

* * *

“Hey,” said Justina, and then, “HEY.”

Byerly turned. It was the first time in about two days that Justina had emerged from the guest bedroom between meals. Dorcas and Dono were still closeted together; he and Julia and Olivia and Ivan had been having a tense conversation with Pidge about their legal options.

“You’ve all been talking about me,” said Justina. No one denied it. “Do _I_ get to talk about me?”

“By all means,” said Byerly, profoundly relieved that Justina had voluntarily decided to talk to them again. “Tell us what you want.”

Justina looked at Olivia. “I want your husband to keep his fucking _promises_.”

“He’s prepared to,” said Olivia. “Whether he will be _allowed_ is another question. I’m afraid there are ... complications, since Yves has got a letter from his district Count ordering you to be returned to him.”

“In other words,” said Justina, “you’re selling me out.”

“No,” said Olivia. “We’re going to fight it. But in case we lose – _are_ there any circumstances in which you’d be willing to go back and live with your – with Madame Vorrutyer? Temporarily, let’s say until you finish school, or worst-case, until you come of age. You’ve got our word that we will cover your university fees afterward.”

Justina scowled. “I’d rather eat broken glass.”

“... Right. I take it that’s a _no_ , then. Pidge, if it turns out that the acknowledged-bastard oath isn’t sufficient to establish legal paternity any more, then what are our options?”

“The way I see it, the case looks like this. Technically, it’s one party’s word against the other, assuming that Lord Ivan Vorpatril and Count Dono Vorrutyer are still prepared to swear that Justina is _their_ daughter –” (Ivan made a sort of _meep_ noise at this point, but did not actively protest; Pidge ignored him.) “– Whereas Yves Vorrutyer and Madame Dorcas Vorrutyer claim that she is the daughter of the said Dorcas Vorrutyer and her incarcerated husband, Richars Vorrutyer. Under Barrayaran law, two male witnesses _theoretically_ trump a man and a woman, and it doesn’t hurt at all if your two male witnesses are titled. But here’s the problem. That particular set of prej- ... er, _laws_ – are only in force on Barrayar, and if this goes to trial on _Barrayar_ , Lord Ivan’s and Count Vorrutyer’s side of the case is going to fall apart as soon as Yves produces witnesses who can identify Justina as Richars and Dorcas’s daughter. Which he will have absolutely no difficulty in doing, assuming she’s been sent to school and taken out in public. Your only legal recourse, in that case, would be for Julia to sue for custody on the grounds that Yves and Dorcas are unfit guardians, which she might be able to do if there aren’t any female biological relatives on Dorcas’s side who want to claim Justina, _and_ if Julia can provide evidence of their unfitness.”

“What would such evidence look like?” asked By.

“Physical or sexual abuse would be ideal. Well, not _ideal_ , but you know what I mean.”

“... Justina?” By prompted. The question had to be asked, although he tried to let his voice convey _you don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to_.

Justina shook her head. “No. They’ve never laid a hand on me. _Da_ did, when he got angry enough, but he’s in prison. _They’ve_ just said no to everything – no, I can’t go to university, no, I can’t move out until I’m fucking _twenty_ , and even then, I won’t have the _money_ to move out because I can’t get a job because nice Vor girls don’t _do_ that, so I’m going to be stuck living with them at least until I come of age and probably _forever_ unless I go and get married, and after I finish school I’m not going to have anything to do except stay home looking after my brothers and Uncle Yves’s kids and the house, so I don’t know how I’m ever even supposed to _meet_ someone to marry. I’m not allowed to go anywhere boys might be, anyway.”

“Confining your underage daughter to the domestic sphere and using her as an unpaid servant is unfortunately not actionable under Barrayaran law,” said Pidge. “I gather, up until a generation ago, it was actually _expected_.”

“Two generations at least –” objected Ivan.

“You must have grown up in progressive circles,” said Julia. “One.”

Justina brightened suddenly. “Do you think maybe if I dressed indecently enough, I _could_ get Uncle Yves to sexually abuse me? Because _honestly_ , I’d rather sleep with him once than have to live with him _forever_.”

Ivan, By, Olivia, and Pidge all looked at one another rather desperately, having no idea what to say to this. Julia – the only one who had _been_ in Justina’s position – did know. “No,” she said quietly. “Even if it worked, it wouldn’t be worth it. Nor is getting married to get out of the house worth it. Take it from someone who _did_.”

“What am I supposed to _do_ , then? Even if Dono gives me the money for university, Mother and Uncle Yves still wouldn’t let me take anything from him. Not until I’m of age, anyway.”

If Byerly had any notion of advising her to stick it out for a few more years, the thought of what _his_ life would have been like if somebody had forced him to remain under his father’s roof until he came of age was enough to stop him. He’d been a boy, of course, and that had meant he had a few more options. Also, his cousin Donna had been willing to take him in, and he was damned if he was going to break faith now with someone Dono had claimed as a daughter.

“Does denial of essential medical services count as physical abuse?” he asked Pidge, over Justina’s protests that she didn’t _need_ any medical services.

“Yes, it might. I could make a case for it, anyhow. But I would need evidence that it’s actually happened.”

“Which would, unfortunately, constitute proof that Dono and Ivan were lying when they said they were her biological parents. So that would be a last resort.” His mind racing, he began to talk his way though the possibilities. “I suppose it’s a bit too late for _me_ to claim to be her da – well, not with Ivan for obvious reasons, I mean you _can_ have a baby with another man these days but you can’t really do it without _noticing_ – and preferably not with my own first cousin, because that would just be _weird_.”

“It won’t be the first time it’s happened in _this_ family,” said Julia.

“Yes, well, that is _precisely_ how we got into this fix in the first place!”

“Not _this_ one specifically,” said Julia judiciously. “Dominant gene, remember? Although it probably _does_ explain the family mental health history.”

“Damn, that’s a frightening thought. Considering that our parents were second cousins, and all.”

“Don’t worry, I think if you get it from both sides, they cancel each other out and you default to sane.”

Ivan seemed to be following this conversation without any difficulty, which was surely a sign that Ivan had fallen much farther down the Vorrutyer rabbit-hole than he was willing to admit. Pidge had not. “If I’m going to represent you, will you please stop talking in _code?_ ”

“Right,” said By. “What we’re discussing is a particular medical condition that I believe –”

“ _Don’t say it!_ ” interrupted Justina.

He stopped. And looked at her. Everyone else looked, too.

“I mean, _fine_ ,” said Justina, coloring a little. “I _know_ what I am. I know what _you_ are, too,” she added, recovering a little of her composure and glaring at By. “But do you have to fucking _say_ it?”

“I will not say anything you don’t want me to,” he said without breaking eye contact, trying his best to pretend there were only the two of them in the room. “I promise. All right?”

Justina gave him a small, wary nod. It wasn’t much, as gestures of trust went; but he’d just watched most of Justina’s carefully built-up defenses go smash, and he thought he could keep her from shoring them up again.

“How about we call it a night?” he said to the others. “I’m tired. I expect everyone else is tired, too.”

“ _I_ am about ready to call it a _year_ ,” muttered Pidge. “Honest to God, I don’t know why I represent clients who are _crazy_.”

* * *

“You look thoughtful, wild-caught,” said Rish, once they were finally alone.

“It’s just hit me that we are about to bring a child of our own into the world, and it’s entirely possible that we may fuck things up every bit as badly as Dorcas and Richars. Maybe even as badly as _my_ parents. What are we _doing?_ ”

“Look at me,” said Rish, slipping a hand under his chin and tilting his head to make sure he looked. “We are not going to do that. It’s _avoidable_.”

“I don’t know. I don’t think _anybody_ sets out to make their kid despise them. Not even Richars.”

“Well, you’re not Richars, and you’re not your father, and I don’t believe it’s really as hard as all that. _My_ parents aren’t saints by any means, and they still managed to raise ten non-psychopaths.”

“Rish ... your parents have _eleven_ children.”

“Well, anybody can get it wrong _once_.”

As they were only planning to have one child, By did not find this entirely reassuring.

* * *

The new arrivals had been lodged in separate wings of the Baron and Baronne’s villa, far apart enough to minimize socially awkward interactions (and, in the case of Dono and his family, for Max to bark his head off and both boys to throw jump-lag-fueled temper tantrums without bothering anybody else). The Baronne indicated that breakfast would be served promptly at eight, and everyone was invited. Naturally, everybody showed up, even Byerly, who didn’t usually regard eight o’clock in the morning as an acceptable time for socializing. The possibility that breakfast would end with someone impaled on a butter-knife was too hard to resist.

The House Cordonah staff had put together an impressive breakfast buffet – smoked icefish, stuffed pancakes with fresh strawberries from the family hothouses, mimosas – but few of the guests were in any mood to appreciate it. Of the twenty-five or so people in the room, the only ones who seemed to be really enjoying themselves were CeeCee and Toby, who had just discovered each other’s existence. Toby, in particular, had never encountered anyone _just his size_ before, and seemed delighted at the novelty.

Everyone else was being stiffly polite to one another when the Baronne’s wristcom pinged. This was unusual, since there were only a few dozen people in the galaxy who had the code for the Baronne’s private wristcom, and most of them were right there in the room.

“... Why yes, Alys, of course, it will be _delightful_ to see you and Simon again. I’ll tell the guards to let you in.”

Ivan and Byerly looked at each other in consternation.


	7. Resolution

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the long delay between updates -- I've been dealing with a perfect storm of a hard drive crash, a flurry of work stuff, and Being Anxious About Politics.
> 
> Elynor Vorhavens, who has a cameo here, is a character from my earlier story [Diamonds and Hearts](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4746056).

Byerly and Rish and their various houseguests spent the rest of the morning looking tense and waiting for Ivan’s mother to arrive. Justina, having emerged from her room, seemed to have decided to stay emerged, much to By’s relief. She lost twenty marks or so to Alain at poker before she realized she was outclassed, and started pestering him to teach her how he did that.

Alain, who tended to intuit ideas more effectively than he could articulate them, floundered a bit, but eventually managed to convey some ideas about probability that seemed to make sense to Justina. At any rate, she reached for a pen and became absorbed in making calculations of her own.

“Oh, and one other thing,” said Alain. “You’ve got to play the hand you’ve got, not the one you wish you’d been dealt. That is – you can bluff other people all you want, but it’s a bad idea to start bluffing _yourself_ , see what I mean?”

“Yeah,” said Justina, looking up with a thoughtful expression. “I guess I do.”

* * *

Ivan’s mother and sort-of-stepfather arrived early in the afternoon. They were accompanied by a young woman – _very_ young, very hip, and very progressive-looking – whom Lady Alys introduced as “Mademoiselle Vorhavens, an attorney and a designated Imperial Arbiter.”

“Since when do they let twelve-year-olds be attorneys?” asked Ivan, as soon as Mademoiselle Vorhavens had left to interview the other people involved in the case.

His mother looked at him with a quelling expression. “Mademoiselle Vorhavens is twenty-three, and she’s extremely competent. I recommended her, as she is a neutral party, unknown to anyone involved in the case, and I thought it was time she got a little galactic experience. She was offered one of your Aunt Cordelia’s scholarships to Beta, you know, but she turned it down because she wanted to finish her degree a year early.”

This still wasn’t much of an explanation for Mademoiselle Vorhavens’ presence, Ivan thought. He was fairly certain fledgling lawyers didn’t usually get appointed as Imperial Arbiters. “Wherever did you pick her up?”

“I don’t think she will mind if I tell you we ‘picked her up,’ as you put it, when she was attempting to blow up a post office,” said Lady Alys, as if this were a perfectly normal way of meeting one’s attorney.

“The _parking deck_ of a post office,” Simon amended, “and fortunately, she wasn’t doing it very effectively. I need hardly say that she has matured a great deal since then.”

“You don’t think Pidge will eat her for lunch?”

“I am sure that when Baronette Mercedes Sofia Esperanza Juana Paloma is fully apprised of the facts of the case, she will agree with Mademoiselle Vorhavens that there is only one possible resolution under Barrayaran law.” Lady Alys looked ominously at Ivan. “I do not anticipate that either Byerly or Dono will balk at this resolution. _You_ , I admit, may be somewhat dismayed. I will own that I am slightly dismayed, too, but one must fulfill one’s responsibilities. I do wish you had considered the potential consequences of your actions more carefully.”

“I can explain –”

“There is no need for explanation. Dono left a voice-memo with his attorney that gives a full account of how his arrangement with you came about. Assuming it is accurate, the legalities of the situation would seem to be straightforward; the only difficulty will be persuading Madame Vorrutyer to accept Mademoiselle Vorhavens’ judgment rather than insisting on a full Council of Counts trial. But she would have to hire legal counsel of her own if it came to trial, so I think she will find arbitration acceptable.”

* * *

Mademoiselle Vorhavens had changed into a conservative skirt-suit, evidently for the benefit of Dorcas and Yves, when Ivan next saw her. Dorcas, she announced, had agreed to arbitration. So had Justina, although Ivan wasn’t sure that Justina, as a minor, was technically supposed to have a say. At any rate, Justina seemed to have _taken_ to Mademoiselle Vorhavens, and Ivan began to see why choosing a very young arbiter might have been a sensible move after all.

“I want to see all of the parties directly involved in the case in the Baron’s study, in half an hour,” Mademoiselle Vorhavens announced crisply. “Nobody else, please.”

“Can my sister-in-law Pidge come?” Ivan asked. “She’s my lawyer, sort of.” Not that he entirely trusted Pidge, but if there was any chance of a perjury charge, he wanted _someone_ there who might be able to defend him.

“Yes, of course,” said Mademoiselle Vorhavens. “Madame Dorcas Vorrutyer will also be entitled to have a lawyer of her own present.”

“And my wife? I mean, she helped bring Justina here and everything.”

“Yes,” said Mademoiselle Vorhavens, “I would say your wife has certainly … decided to involve herself.”

* * *

Dorcas did not, of course, have a lawyer of her own. She brought Yves, instead, who leaned heavily against the study doors as if to bar Justina from escaping, with his arms folded and the expression of a bulldog.

“Do you have a law degree, Vorrutyer?” Pidge inquired, with an icy stare.

Yves snorted, as if the very question were an insult; to a Vor-caste male of traditional sensibilities, it was. Ivan wondered if Pidge knew that; she’d certainly gotten the form of address for a non-titled Vor correct, which most off-worlders didn’t. “No. But I’m here to advise my sister-in-law. You understand that, as a _properly_ brought-up Vor lady, she can’t be expected to know anything about the law.”

“ _I_ manage,” said Mademoiselle Vorhavens, with an even icier stare. “As a male relative, you can have no claim upon Justina under Barrayaran law; therefore, your request to be present is denied.” (Ivan didn’t recall Yves actually making any requests; wisely, he decided to leave anyway.)

Mademoiselle Vorhavens did not attempt to kick out Lady Alys or Simon (Ivan would have liked to see her try), and when Dono and Olivia finally arrived, she made no objection to the fact that they were accompanied by an exasperated-looking Byerly, who plunked himself down on the couch next to Ivan and whispered, “For fuck’s sake, Ivan, _why didn’t you tell me you were Justina’s mother?_ ”

Ivan stared at him. “Because I’m _not_. Obviously not. Do I _look_ like her mother?”

“Well, Mademoiselle Vorhavens seems to think you are,” said By. “Legally, I mean.”

They had time to say nothing more before Madame Vorhavens called the assembly to order.

* * *

“The first point this case requires me to consider,” said Madame Vorhavens, “is whether an acknowledged-bastard oath is sufficient, in this day and age, to establish legal paternity. It is my opinion that it is, based on seven centuries of legal precedent on Barrayar, as well as the broader principle that a man’s word of honor is binding.”

“If people take an oath and swear something that’s obviously a lie,” argued Dorcas, “they make a mockery of that principle. Just as calling Dono a _man_ is making a mockery of … of _everything_ we believe in.”

“Mmm, that brings us to the peculiarities of this particular case,” said Madame Vorhavens, “which – to say the least of it – raises some unusual questions about who should be regarded as Justina’s lawful guardian. Count Vorrutyer, you confirm that you have taken a paternity oath naming yourself as Justina’s father and claiming legal responsibility?”

“Yes,” said Dono, unhesitating. “I do.”

“Lord Ivan Vorpatril, you served as witness to that oath, and you can confirm that Count Vorrutyer took it?”

“Yes,” said Ivan, more reluctantly.

“Do you also confirm that Count Vorrutyer identified you, at that time, as Justina’s mother?”

“Umm. Yeah.”

“ _I_ am her mother,” Dorcas objected.

“Have you taken an oath to that effect, Madame Vorrutyer?”

“No, but I gave _birth_ to her! It should be obvious that what Dono and Lord Ivan are claiming is _biologically impossible_.”

“I am not a biologist,” said Mademoiselle Vorhavens, “so I shall not venture to express an opinion on that point. This case concerns law, not biology, and what Barrayaran law has to say on the subject is perfectly clear. The acknowledged-bastard oath is, in itself, sufficient both to establish and to create familial relationships.”

“Wait a minute,” said Ivan, because two facts had suddenly become crystal clear to him. One was that he hadn’t, in fact, done anything that counted as perjury; it was Dono who had. The second was that he was about to be granted legal custody of Justina. “I think Dorcas has a reasonable point, actually.”

“You seem to have agreed at the time that you were Justina’s mother,” said Mademoiselle Vorhavens, “since you put your name down on her passport application. I can produce a copy of the form.”

“Ivan, I _told_ you not to complain about the consequences if you turned down the chance to be her father,” said Dono, with a decidedly malicious grin.

“Has anyone ever told you that you look like a shark when you smile like that?” said Ivan. He shot Pidge a rather desperate _get me out of this_ look.

“Mademoiselle Vorhavens,” said Pidge, “it is my understanding that in Barrayaran law, it is the spirit or general principle rather than the letter of the law that counts, is that not correct?”

“Ye-es,” said Mademoiselle Vorhavens, obviously unsettled by the fact that she didn’t seem to know where Pidge was going with this.

“And it would appear, from the discussion of custody law in Appendix B, page 407, of _A Short Guide to Barrayaran Laws Governing Birth, Adoption, Custody, and Inheritance_ , that the governing principle underlying this law is the belief that it is in the best interest of the child to be brought up with a role model of the same sex. Now, setting aside the question of whether this belief has any solid evidence supporting it or whether it is mere superstition, it should be clear that while Count Dono Vorrutyer _may_ be qualified to serve as such a role model for Justina – don’t _interrupt_ , Madame Vorrutyer – Lord Ivan manifestly is _not_.”

“Ah.” Mademoiselle Vorhavens’s face cleared, as if suddenly seeing her way forward. “Yes, I do concede that point. That is why, in the event of a girl’s mother being incapacitated, imprisoned, incommunicado, or otherwise unable to serve as a suitable role model, guardianship then devolves upon the mother’s female next-of-kin, most commonly a maternal aunt or grandmother, sometimes a more distant relative such as a cousin; the relationship in such cases need not be exclusively matrilineal. Lord Ivan does not, of course, have a sister. He _does_ , however, have a living mother. Lady Alys, as Justina’s grandmother, are you prepared to assume temporary guardianship of Justina until she comes of age, and to grant visitation rights to any other relatives who wish to see her during that time?”

“Yes,” said Ivan’s mother, looking not exactly pleased, but at any rate resigned. “I am.”

“Justina, is this a solution that is acceptable to you?” asked Mademoiselle Vorhavens.

Justina shrugged. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Madame Vorrutyer?”

“The Dowager Lady Vorpatril,” said Dorcas primly, “is not a fit role model for a young girl because she is living with a man who isn’t her husband.”

Lady Alys looked Dorcas over, with a slight lift of her eyebrows. “So are you, dear.”

Dorcas colored and made no further objections. Undoubtedly, she was making the calculation that Justina’s odds of landing a suitable Vor husband had just shot up astronomically.

“There’s one thing,” said Ivan, because Tej was nudging him and looking at him meaningfully. “Justina’s got a kitten. I think she ought to be allowed to keep it. I know you’re allergic to cats, Simon, but there’s got to be some way to work it out.”

“I agree,” said Byerly. “Kitten, or no Deal.”

“There _are_ boarding schools that allow animals,” Lady Alys observed. (Fabulously expensive boarding schools, Ivan knew, mostly catering to wealthy and spoiled young ladies who couldn’t bear to leave their favorite dog or horse at home.) “I would certainly be willing to pay Justina’s tuition and board, if that is a solution that appeals to her.”

“Yeah,” said Justina, who hadn’t been looking entirely enthusiastic about the prospect of spending the next two years under the watchful eye of Ivan’s mother. “That sounds all right.”

* * *

 _Well_ , Byerly thought, _that turned out unexpectedly well_. At any rate, neither his former chief nor his former blind drop had given him a dressing-down for sticking them with his troublesome cousin, and Yves and Dorcas had decided to decamp for a hotel near the shuttleport, where there was less weird food and fewer people who came in startling colors.

He was sitting on one of the recliners in the now-darkened sun porch, idly tugging at a mouse-on-a-string for the kittens to chase, when he heard a quick, light step behind him. “Be right in, Rish,” he said absently, and then he turned and saw that it was Julia.

“Oh,” he said, getting quickly to his feet, “I was just going in.”

“No, you weren’t,” said Julia, gesturing toward his half-finished glass of wine. “Sit down.”

“I really think we both ought to go in, it’s getting chilly out here –”

“ _No_. You can be alone with me, for once. I haven’t had a private conversation with my own brother in _twenty-four years_ , except over the comconsole. Don't you think there's something wrong with that?”

“Julia, I –”

Julia sat down on the edge of the recliner, in direct contact with him, and he fought back the impulse to tense up, to pull away. “You’re still running away, you know. It’s been twenty-four years, and you’ve never stopped. Haven’t you gotten far away enough _yet?_ ”

He admitted that Jackson’s Whole was probably far away enough.

“Yeah. It is. And it doesn’t matter so much about me, but it does matter that you haven’t let yourself be properly alone with Justina, either. And I didn’t blame you while Dorcas and Yves were in the picture, because who knows what ugly, unhinged things they might say, but you do need to have a private conversation with Justina before she leaves. Because there are some things that she needs to hear from _you_ , and I don’t believe you’ve told her any of them yet.”

Byerly was about to protest that Justina hadn’t been ready to hear them, and then he realized he hadn’t actually _tried_. Ivan had been right; it was time he went for the _straight-up, honest conversation_ approach. In a few minutes. _After_ he’d had some more wine.

“I haven’t,” he admitted. “But I will … Ought one of us to be having the bisexuality talk with Justina, by the way? I mean, not to make assumptions, but given the family history the odds are pretty good, and if she’s heard anything at all from Dorcas it’s likely to be inaccurate at best and downright poisonous at worst…”

“I’ll do it,” said Julia. “ _That_ one’s easier for me.”

“Are you and Em …?”

“Not at all serious,” said Julia. “Among other things, _I_ don’t think I could pack up and move here permanently.” A thoughtful smile played about Julia’s lips. “ _She’s_ been making noises about a galactic tour for the Jewels, though, if she can get the rest of them to agree. I told her I thought that would be a very good idea. You could come home for a visit.”

“Have you ever seen the six of them in one room together? They don’t agree on very much.” And then, of course, there was the problem of whether ImpSec would even want him to come home for a visit. And yet he had to admit that _home_ had begun to sound tempting, less like a place to run away from and more like one to come back to.

* * *

“Hi, Justina. May I come in?”

“Whatever,” said Justina, in a not-unfriendly way. She was half-curled up on the guest room bed, with the white kitten snuggled up against her.

“I wanted to talk to you a bit about our, uh, mutual condition. What it means. What it _doesn’t_ mean. Not so much the medical side, because you really ought to talk to Amiri about that, but … life-stuff.”

Justina didn’t actually _object_ , so he pulled up a chair.

“First of all, medical science has mostly got this one _covered_. Pay attention to your doctors, take your medication, and you should be able to do pretty much anything you want to. That includes sports if you’re so inclined. Or, God help me, the Women’s Auxiliary.”

Justina rolled her eyes. “Do I _look_ like I like getting up at five in the morning?”

“Right, I am _so_ with you on that. So, as you’ve probably gathered, Rish and I are having a baby. In a matter of days, actually. You can have children someday if you want. It _does_ mean gene-cleaning and a replicator birth would be a very good idea. They’re good ideas anyway.”

“I don’t want any kids,” said Justina firmly.

Byerly considered pointing out that there were ways of having kids that didn’t involve becoming Dorcas, but decided it wasn’t really his business. “Fine. But let’s say you _do_ meet someone you want a relationship with. That’s possible, too. _While_ being honest about it, I mean. Maybe not everyone will accept it, but the ones that are worth having _will_. And if they’re an off-worlder, like Rish, they likely won’t even think it’s a big deal.”

“Yeah, well. If I was blue, I might not be too picky either.”

“Rish is pretty damn picky, actually. Just not about that.”

“Everything’s different here,” said Justina; it was a sort of a question.

“Yes. Most things, anyway.”

“Lady Alys said maybe I should look at galactic universities. She’s got some idea about _expanding my horizons_ , or something. And then Dono said he’d be all right with paying for it.” Justina delivered this information in a characteristically world-weary tone, and it was a moment before By realized that she was, in fact, seeking advice. Probably, no one Justina had ever met before in her life had suggested that a galactic education was desirable, or even possible.

“I think that’s a good idea,” he said. “The galaxy’s a big place, and most of it’s nothing like home. It’s worth seeing more of it for yourself.”

“Do you miss home?” Justina asked unexpectedly.

“Parts of it. Not everything about it. And not all the time.” He added, after a moment, “You can always change your mind and come home if you don’t like it, you know.”

“Ma’s going to have a _fit_ if I go off-world,” said Justina, in a tone that suggested that she regarded this as a bonus.

“Oh, I don’t think he will. I’ve never known Ivan to have fits.”

The full absurdity of the situation seemed to hit Justina all at once, and she dissolved in giggles. He’d never heard her laugh before; it was a good sound.

“It’s going to be all right,” he said. “Well, not perfectly all right, but you can do anything you want to do now. Except messing with Lady Alys. Or with Illyan. Don’t ever try that.”

“Believe it or not,” said Justina, with a slight roll of her eyes, “I’d worked that one out for myself.”

“Is there anything else you’d like to ask me?”

“Nah.”

“Good night, then.”

“Good night.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't quite the end! There will be an epilogue. (Eventually.)


	8. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the incredibly long hiatus! I have no good excuse.

“Yup, that’s a baby, all right,” pronounced Amiri, and handed the baby over to By, who looked at his wailing daughter as if he wasn’t entirely sure what to do with her, and handed her off as quickly as possible to the nearest of her many aunts. Unfortunately, the one he picked was Julia, who said, “Oh no you don’t, I’ve already got one, and anyway you’re supposed to be taking the acknowledged-bastard oath.”

Byerly accepted the baby – not that he had been given much choice in the matter, as Julia had thrust her forcibly back into his arms. “I, Pierre Byerly Vorrutyer –”

“Your real name’s Pierre? Seriously? Like Le Sanguinare?”

“Don’t _interrupt_ , Ivan, it makes me forget the words – I do hereby acknowledge Anya Udine Donna Julia Laurentia Rutyer as my natural-born daughter, and vow to fulfill all the duties and responsibilities of a father toward the said ... Anya et cetera ... as long as my life shall last.” Byerly looked down at the baby, who opened her eyes and grew still. “This before all the world I do prefer; this despite the world will I keep safe...”

Yes, Ivan decided after a moment of disbelief, By _was_ getting choked up.

“I further swear to offer all necessary shelter, succor, and support to the mother of the said Anya Rutyer…”

Ivan wondered exactly what sort of _shelter, succor, and support_ Rish was supposed to require. It sounded unlikely.

“Hey,” said Rish, stepping closer as By finished the oath and looking into the baby’s slightly unfocused eyes. “I think we’ll keep her.”

“So you’re someone’s da now,” said Ivan to By in an undertone. “That’s so _weird_.”

“Not half as weird as you being someone’s ma!”

“You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

“Nope.”

* * *

It turned out that when you had a new baby, everybody wanted to hold the baby, and give you copious amounts of contradictory advice, and make exactly the same joke about how you weren’t going to sleep for the next five years. Everybody, that is, except Justina, who shrugged and said, “No thanks, I’ve seen lots of babies already.” Byerly decided that he found his young cousin’s indifference refreshing.

“Thought any more about choosing a university?” he asked, once the people who had already had children had finally taken their differences elsewhere. (Traditional Barrayaran ideas about what to do with babies were fairly different from modern Barrayaran ones, and _very_ different from Jacksonian-Cetagandan ones. The sensible thing to do seemed to be to shoo them all off to the nursery to argue it out. He wondered idly whether it would be possible to outsource Anya’s entire upbringing to her various doting relatives, and then wondered when he’d somehow managed to acquire something resembling a proper _family_.)

“Dunno,” said Justina. “Lady Alys said we could stop and visit some on the way home. Escobar and Komarr, and there’s even one on Sergyar now. I guess math is the same everywhere, so it all depends on which campus I like best.”

“What’s this business about math?” said Ivan. “I thought you wanted to study reproductive technology or terraforming or interplanetary business communications?”

Justina shrugged again. “I changed my mind.”

Byerly, who had suggested to Elynor Vorhavens that she might want to drop a few hints along those lines to Justina, hid a smirk. (Reproductive technology, terraforming, and interplanetary business communications had been listed as up-and-coming professions in the shuttle-line magazine Julia had given him, which suggested Justina had chosen them more or less at random.) He reached out a hand to pet the white kitten, and jerked it back rapidly when the demon-beast put its claws out.

“She doesn’t like it when other people touch her,” said Justina, with a smirk of her own.

“Have you decided what you’re going to call her?” Tej asked.

“Jackie,” said Justina. “For Jackson’s Whole.”

“It suits her,” said Ivan. “It’s a good name for a snowball of concentrated malevolence.”

“Hey!” objected Tej and Justina at the same time.

* * *

“ _Your_ name is Alf,” Ivan informed the orange kitten, which had hopped up onto his knee as if it thought it _belonged_ there. “It’s short for Annoying Little Furball, which is what you _are_.”

“You’re keeping him, I see,” said By, with one of those annoying _knowing_ looks he got sometimes.

“Yeah, well. Tej seems to like him for some reason. You know how it is with women.”

“Mm-hm,” said By, shifting Anya to his other arm. Rish had decisively refused the series of hormone hyposprays that would have allowed her to breast-feed (“ _You_ can, By, if you’re so keen”), so the Acknowledged Bastard was energetically sucking down a bottle of vat-milk.

“She’s got an appetite on her,” remarked Ivan.

“Doesn’t she?” said By proudly. “The baby books all say they don’t eat much for the first few days, but this one hasn’t read the books. Amiri thinks she’s inherited Rish’s metabolism, even though we didn’t select for it particularly … Do you want to hold her?”

“Not until you burp her,” said Ivan, because he’d already fallen for _that_ one when Miles tried it.

“ _You’re_ no fun.”

“Try it on some of the sisters-in-law.”

“I shall.”

* * *

“That _is_ a very pretty kitten,” the Baronne admitted, “but, I don’t know…” She picked a bit of kitten-hair off of the elegant, sleek black sofa and looked at it dubiously.

“I read that calicos are very interesting from an epigenetics standpoint,” said Ruby, “and we’ve got all that cloning equipment Rish ordered just sitting there not doing anything –”

“She isn’t a _lab animal_ , Ruby,” interrupted Topaz, “she’s a pet. Don’t you think it would be nice for Toby to grow up with a pet?” (This last remark was for the Baron, who found it impossible to refuse Toby anything.)

“Feel how soft she is,” said Pearl. “Very pleasing to all of the senses.”

“Not smell,” said Jet.

Pearl glared at him and said, “You’re not helping.”

“ _I_ think she smells nice,” said Em, picking the kitten up and burying her nose in its fur. “Much nicer than dogs, anyway.”

(Everyone nodded assent to this last point; the Arquas all agreed that, while Byerly’s cousin Dono and the human members of his family made perfectly acceptable houseguests, Max was simply _too much_.)

“Rish says having a cat is hardly any trouble at all,” said Topaz. “They’re very independent, and they house-train themselves. _And_ they’re extremely clean animals.” (To be sure, Rish had also said alarming things about something dreadful called _hairballs_ , and about the damage claws could inflict on furniture. Topaz decided to keep this information to herself.)

“Well, Udine,” said the Baron, “if the girls are that taken with her, I don’t really see the harm.”

“Very well,” said the Baronne, resigned.

* * *

Alain took up Rish’s kitchen shears and cut off a lock of his hair. (He was going slightly grey at the temples, By noticed; even extraordinarily beautiful blue-eyed prole boys got older, alas.)

“What are you –”

“For Contraband,” explained Alain.

“Oh.” Well, that made sense; Alain had known Contraband as long as By had. “We, um, didn’t exactly give him a proper burial. The ground’s usually frozen here. Rish offered to take him to Organic Recycling instead, and I said that would be all right.” Apparently she had taken a genetic sample somewhere along the way.

“What does that … mean, exactly?” said Alain, looking suspiciously at the vat-chicken sandwich he’d been eating.

“Fertilizer for the greenhouses, I think.”

“Oh,” said Alain, picking up his sandwich again. “That’s … nice, I guess. Not all that different from what would happen naturally.”

“Yes. I thought so.”

Alain set Carbon on the kitchen counter and considered him. “I wonder what this little one’s going to be like. I guess he’s going to be his own cat.” The kitten batted insistently at his hand, and was rewarded with a scrap of chicken. “He’s awfully good at cadging food, though. _That_ seems familiar.”

They were interrupted by Julia, with the grey tabby in one hand and a shredded pair of silk stockings in the other, which she held out to By with an accusing expression. “He got into my luggage while I was packing. Can’t you _watch_ him?”

“Not very easily,” said By. “He _pops up_ in places.” Taking the tabby kitten from Julia, he addressed it sternly. “If you’re going to be a big brother, you’re going to have to learn how to be a proper role model.”

Julia snorted. “Role model. Mm-hm.”

“Do as I say, not as I do … Are you leaving already?” He’d known, of course, that Alain and Dono would be called away by their other responsibilities – it was a miracle that Alain had managed to steal as much time as he had – but he’d been hoping to see a little more of Julia. It was awfully nice having Julia _back_. “Why not stay longer?”

“Oh, I’ll make sure to stop by and see my niece on my way back. The little one’s going to be more fun in a few months, anyway.”

“Your way back?”

“From Earth. Em’s been there three times, and she says it’s _amazing_. And I thought, I’ve already gone most of the way, so why not?”

* * *

Kareenburg University, as far as Justina could tell, was one huge construction site: raw new buildings sprouting out of the mud, some still half-built, some with classes already going on inside them. The footpaths were covered in mud, too. Countess Vorkosigan, the Vicereine, said that it was a good thing Justina had worn boots for her campus tour, and it would all look much nicer in a year or two. (She also told Justina to call her “Cordelia,” which was simply _embarrassing_ when it came from a Vicereine, but luckily it was pretty easy to avoid calling people anything at all when you were talking one on one with them.)

There were rather a lot of hills, but Justina found that she didn’t get out of breath on hills any more, so it didn’t matter. It was good to have proof that the pills Amiri had given her actually _worked_.

“Quite a contrast with the Escobaran universities, hmm?” said Illyan. It was: two of the three campuses they’d toured on Escobar had been centuries old, and the third was trying to look as if it were. Their student guide was different, too. Instead of going on and on about the university’s history and traditions (most of which sounded silly to Justina, who’d had _enough_ of tradition), this one talked about plans: what would be there in five years, by the time Justina graduated; what might happen in ten.

“Yes, sir,” said their student guide, “but we _do_ have one-of-a-kind opportunities for biology students. Um, safe ones, I mean. We’ve nearly eradicated the worm plague. Also, I know you’ve probably heard some stories about, uh, vampire balloons, but there’s a very effective repellent these days.”

It occurred to Justina that she would _not_ have to tell her mother or Uncle Yves that the worm plague and vampire balloons had been dealt with. In fact, if she played her cards right, she might not have to worry about _any visits from relatives at all_. Well, probably Dono would insist on checking out what he was paying for, but Dono was all right. Actually, By and Julia seemed quite surprisingly all right.

“What do you think?” said Lady Alys.

Justina looked around her and smiled. “I think this is what I want.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For a bit of Justina's life at Kayburg University, see [Mike Adams, Justina Vorrutyer, and Wyx Hargraves, Authors of Macbeth](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5396888).


End file.
